Truth in Lies
by AhiFlame
Summary: Sparrow and crew come across an unfortunate youth who has more in common with an infamous pirate than he could imagine. Lies and betrayal arise - will Sparrow learn to trust again? Mild JA, maybe WE later on.
1. Unexpected Guest

**Truth in Lies**

_Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all associated characters belong to their respective owners. I just play and give back. All I can lay claim to are the OC's in this story – and not even them. They own themselves, alright? I guess I come out with nada._

**_Author's Note: It may have taken several months, but I'm back on my feet and writing again. The muse has returned and rather seems to fancy this story – it's coming along nicely. Yay! Here's the first chapter of the first story in which I am really trying to incorporate fresh elements…you'll see what I mean later. Trust me, you will. Well, without further ado, read on and please be forgiving._**

Chapter 1 – Unexpected Guest

"No. No, no, no, no—_No!_"

"Would ye kindly relax?"

"No, I will not! This is madness!"

"Not brilliance?"

"Decidedly not. No, I won't do it."

"You have such a strong affiliation with that word. Kinda makes you sound-"

"I don't bloody care 'ow it makes me sound!"

"Easy luv,"

"Don't you 'easy luv' me, Jack Sparrow!"

"_Captain-_"

"Not fer long if you keep this up."

"An' what's that supposed t' mean luv?"

"Stop with th' 'luv'!" Ana snarled, her eyes burning in annoyance.

Jack raised his hands in surrender—or defense—and shut his mouth. He met Ana's gaze evenly but it wasn't long before his eyes began traveling south. "Y'know luv," he began slowly, flinching back from the slap that should have come but didn't. His eyes shot back up to her face and he was surprised that she seemed calm. Too calm. It reminded him of the calm before a storm.

"No slap?" Ana remained silent with an unnerving half-smile in the corner of her mouth and her arms crossed. Jack pasted on a golden, lopsided grin of his own. "Alright then. What I was going to say was that if you don't feel up t' the challenge, you don't have to…" His eyes traveled down again. "Those clothes are very fitting, luv."

A loud slap echoed through the cabin.

ZzZzZzZzZzZ

The cabin door swung open, smacking against the wall with a resounding thud. The young man sitting behind the large oak desk did not spare a glance at the doorway, though he did start when the door and wall impacted.

"Kole,"

"Captain Leshly if you please, crewman. This is my ship after all."

Heavy footsteps crossed the cabin menacingly and the quill was plucked from Kole's hand, leaving a trail of ink on his palm. Kole looked up in irritation but his emotions slid from annoyance to fear as the expression on the larger man's face registered.

The large man snapped the quill in two, spattering ink on Kole's face. "Not anymore, _peacock_."

ZzZzZzZzZzZ

"Well done mates, well done!" Jack praised, sauntering across the deck. At the railing he paused and turned back to face the men on deck. "Bring a few kegs ashore and then send out a hunting party. There'll be a feast t'night at Rum Cay!" The crew loosed a rowdy call and quickly set about retrieving various items from the hold. Jack shrugged his coat off and tossed it carelessly on the deck.

"Captain,"

Jack looked up at the warning tone that came from his first mate, who was currently stalking dangerously toward him from the quarterdeck. He quickly turned his back on her again and set about removing his baldric. His hat was the last item to be placed atop the pile of effects when Ana came to a stop beside him, regarding her captain with a guardedly curious expression.

Jack ignored her presence and swung a leg over the rail.

"Cap'n, what're you doing?"

Jack paused in his motions and froze, resting his weight on one bare foot and the thigh laying over the rail. "No sense in holding up the boats with rowing one man ashore, aye?" Ana raised an eyebrow in silent question. Jack rolled his eyes and the ghost of a grin passed over his face, calling his bluff. "I'm swimmin' ashore, savvy?"

"Yer mad."

"Thanks fer filling me in on the obvious."

"Fine. But if you start drownin' I'm not saving you." The grin broke on his face and Ana crossed her arms in agitation. She watched in heated disapproval as he tossed his other leg over the railing, balanced tediously on it, and saluted her before dropping off the side of the ship in what could have been described as a clumsy fall. He hit the water with a loud splash and Ana peered over the rail as casually as she could.

Jack surfaced and inhaled deeply, treading water and grinning up at her sloppily. The grin vanished from his face and was replaced by a thoughtful frown. Not a full moment later he dove again.

Ana leaned heavily on the railing, staring at the water and waiting with a façade of nonchalance for her captain to resurface. Moments grew on one another and soon turned into minutes. Ana began drumming her fingers on the railing and shifted from one foot to the other.

"'Ey! Ana!" Ana jumped at the voice of her captain and searched the water below. No Jack. Trying desperately to hide her alarm, she strode stiffly across the deck and looked over the starboard rail. Jack was in the water below, staring expectantly up at the railing. "Ah, there you are lass. Th' barnacles and worms are gettin' to 'er—looks like we'll have to careen after all."

Ana massaged her temples in slow, circular motions. Leave it to Jack to leave the unpleasant explanations to her. "Aye Cap'n," she replied in a harsh growl.

Jack beamed at her. "Thanks luv." He dove again, swimming under the ship's belly to surface on the other side and continue in toward shore.

ZzZzZzZzZzZ

"Lads, help yerselves t' another round!" The crew loosed a call of glee and the kegs were tapped once again. Jack tilted his chair back so it was balancing on two legs and rested his feet on the tabletop, one ankle crossed over the other. "You too lass, 'ave a drink," he drawled to Ana, who was seated on his left. Knowing a glare would be cast his way shortly, Jack tipped his hat down over his eyes.

He casually accepted the full mug of rum when he felt a heavy tap on his shoulder. Bringing the mug to his lips, he took a tentative sip, savoring the warmth of the liquid as it trickled down his throat. He felt the eyes of his crew on him and a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. Jack tossed his head back and greedily drained the rum from his mug. Once emptied, he brought the mug down to rest on his stomach with a sigh. His mouth burned unpleasantly and he stubbornly fought against the cough tickling his throat. It didn't help that the room was beginning to spin.

The crew let loose an intoxicated cheer and Jack's grin returned, glinting gold in the flickering candlelight. He cast a curious glance to his left where Ana sat, glaring at him reproachfully. Her drink and meal were untouched.

"There a problem wit' yer drink, luv?"

Ana's glare darkened and she stood, leaving the dining hall at a brisk pace. Jack watched her go with slightly hazy eyes. Once she had disappeared through the open doorway at the far end of the hall he shrugged to himself and turned back to the table.

ZzZzZzZzZzZ

Bright, warm morning sunlight filtered through the cracks in the shutters and highlighted a tanned form in a barred pattern. Jack shut his eyes tighter against the intruding light and rolled so his back was to the windows. The sunlight persisted, warming his bronzed skin where it fell.

The room was beginning to get uncomfortably warm.

Jack sighed in defeat and, with great effort, dragged himself off the mattress, resting his weight on his hands and hip. He slowly swung his legs over so they hung off the side of the bed and groggily ran his hands down his face. Knowing he'd regret the action, he opened his eyes and the dull throb in his skull multiplied several times over to turn into a piercing thrum. Jack winced and rubbed his temples, willing the pain away.

"Bloody 'angovers…" he muttered, dropping his hands and stretching with catlike grace. "I'm beginin' t' think 'lizabeth was right about it being a-" he stopped himself and froze in mid-stretch. He pondered the sentence he had begun and came to a swift conclusion. "Nah." With that decided, he stood and crossed the room to the large bureau. He leaned in toward the mirror, resting his hands heavily on the tabletop on either side of the wash basin. His eyes narrowed and he stared curiously at his reflection. Something seemed amiss, but his recovering mind could not quite put a finger on it…

His eyes traveled down to stare blankly at the numerous scars dotting his torso. So many memories went with those scars, none pleasant, but even such a blatant reminder of his mortality could not shake his firm belief in his own legend. He had a reputation to keep up, both with himself and his crew.

His brow furrowed and he realized what had been wrong with his reflection before. His hands flew to the wash basin.

ZzZzZzZzZzZ

Jack sauntered out of his room, shirt in hand, and locked the door behind him. His eyes and cheeks were cleared of the streaked kohl that had aroused his concern before. He pocketed the key and then sauntered down the hall. He slowly descended the stairs, still slightly tipsy, and entered the curiously vacant dining hall. Jack paused in the doorway and took in the emptiness.

A pang of worry twisted in his gut.

His crew—at least _some_ of them—should have been there already, preparing breakfast. The more rational part of his mind cautioned him not to jump to conclusions; he had to remain calm.

Passing through the kitchen on his way out, he absently grabbed an apple from one of the barrels and proceeded out into the burning Caribbean midmorning, pulling his shirt on as he went.

ZzZzZzZzZzZ

"Well, 'e's breathin' an' all, but oyi, nasty luck 'e 'as,"

"I dunno Kursar…I think I'd call it bloody lucky."

"Cap'n's comin'," Crimp warned in a whisper. The crew fell silent, though some turned to welcome their distracted captain with a warm, if not somewhat concerned, expression.

Jack sauntered past several members of his crew, giving the green apple in his hand an awkward, almost disgusted, look. He stopped short as his occupied chestnut eyes caught a peripheral glimpse of the figure lying limply just past the high tide mark.

All previous thoughts relating to the apple forgotten, he tossed the piece of fruit to a nearby crewmember and dropped to his knees beside the drenched body. He pressed two fingers to the boy's neck, searching out a pulse. He lowered his head, listening for breaths and watching the youth's chest for the telltale rise and fall. To his relief, both pulse and breathing were present, though both were somewhat weaker than they normally would have been.

Jack straightened and searched the faces of his crewmen for any useful information but he was met by several blank stares. The pirate captain stood, brushed the sand from the knees of his breeches, and looked down calculatingly at the lad. The boy had short brown hair, fair skin, and his clothing was the tattered remains of flamboyant black, white, and red silks. A golden ring hung from one earlobe.

Jack nodded to himself and raised his gaze to the nearest crewman. "Duncan,"

"Aye sir?"

"Run ahead and prepare a room for our new guest. Make it something bigger than a closet this time, aye?"

"Aye sir." Duncan gestured for two others to follow him and the trio raced down the beach, back toward their haven.

Jack kneeled again and carefully, but efficiently, lifted the soggy youth from the sand. He shifted the lanky boy's weight in his arms and then started back to the extended mansion that he and his crew had built.


	2. Secrets Revealed?

_Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all associated characters belong to their respective owners. I just play and give back. All I can lay claim to are the OC's in this story – and not even them. They own themselves, alright? I guess I come out with nada. Sadly._

**_Author's Note: Wow…I think this may be the quickest I've posted a chapter consecutively. Maybe not. I dunno. Anywhosits, I'm sorry that, like, nothing is happening in these first chapters, but I just need to get the story going. But I am incredibly grateful to see some familiar – and even unfamiliar, whoot! – names on the reviews page. Also – and this is going against everything D.F. ( my communications teacher ) is teaching us, but I must make an excuse – please excuse anything you find wrong with the, uh, other language. I dropped said language for a reason. Once again, sorry. Okay, shutting up…_**

Chapter 2 – Secrets Revealed?

_"'Ey Jack. Jack!" Hazy brown eyes slowly raised and glared at the tall sailor who had addressed their owner. The tall man walked briskly over to where the youth was hidden, crouched between two barrels in the hold._

_"S'Cap'n," the boy snarled with a shuddering exhalation of breath. The elder man noticed, as he moved closer, that Jack was pinning his left arm tightly to his side with his right hand. But even injured, the young pirate was nothing to be trifled with._

_Bootstrap kneeled down in front of Jack and searched the wary brown gaze with his own. With years of experience with the young pirate captain, Bill knew what he was looking for and he quickly found it in those chocolaty depths. Jack may be very good at masking his emotions, but he had a long way to go in order to fool Bill. "C'mon outta there lad. Let's 'ave a look at yer arm, eh?" Bootstrap slowly reached out to Jack, never breaking their eye contact._

_Jack started back when Bill's fingers brushed his good arm and snarled. "No," he managed through clenched teeth as his left arm bumped against one of the barrels, sending pain flaring through his small body._

_"Jack, c'mon, this is no time t' be fooling 'round!"_

_"'M no' foolin'," Jack objected._

_"Jack, _come on_, she's taking on water fast. The _Pearl _scored a hit right below her waterline; we 'ave t' go!" Bill persisted, reaching further into Jack's hiding space which only resulted in the youth inching further back. Bootstrap forced himself to keep his cool, though why Jack was being so bloody childish at a time like this was beyond him. The boy was seventeen for cryin' out loud!_

_Jack continued scurrying back until his back touched the hull, stopping him. When Bill stretched in to reach him, Jack whimpered and turned, placing his left side against the hull._

_"Jack!"_

_The boy drew away from the shout, slamming his arm and rib cage roughly into the ship's hull. Pain raced through his chest, making breathing difficult. The world grew increasingly dark and he barely felt himself slip limply down the hull to lie in a heap on the floor._

_"Jack?" Bootstrap inquired gently, looking the boy over worriedly. When Jack didn't respond, he grabbed the nearest barrel and shoved it aside with some effort, clearing a path from him to his unconscious friend._

_The ship's beams creaked ominously and the rush of moving water suddenly became deafening._

_Bill reached forward and grabbed Jack's right arm, dragging him in an unintentionally rough manner from between many barrels. As soon as Jack's body was clear of the barrels, Bootstrap hefted the boy's limp weight into his arms and stood._

_As Bootstrap began a light jog up the narrow stairs, Jack's eyes opened for a moment. Through his pain-blurred vision he saw his friend and father figure and felt a wave of comfort sweep over him. His eyes fell shut once more._

"_Cap'n!_"

One chocolaty hazel eye cracked open and glanced at the stern of the small boat. Slight irritation entered Jack's demeanor and he slowly levered his back off the boat's hull. He peered across the water to the beach situated just in front of the large manor he and his crew had assembled over the years and his gaze fixed on Gibbs, who in turn was looking at him expectantly.

"Ah, 'ello Mister Gibbs," Jack called in greeting, squinting against the penetrating sun. He belatedly regretted not having reapplied the kohl that normally encircled his eyes.

"Sorry t' wake you, Cap'n, but the boy-"

"Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs, 'ave you learned nothin'? Y'know I don't sleep on th' job, aye?" Jack interrupted, closing his eyes and laying back in the boat. He placed his shirt, that had been serving as a pillow, beside him and rested his hands behind his head.

Gibbs smiled wryly. "I'll choose t' ignore the sunburn you've developed, then Cap'n."

"Aye, you do tha'. I'll be in," he winced as he sat up quickly and placed his hands on the oars, "in a moment."

"Aye Cap'n." Gibbs answered with a wide grin.

Jack sighed and carefully moved the oars forward and dipped them into the water. He winced when he drew back and felt the sting of his newly acquired sunburn. Forcing the pain to the back of his mind, he moved into the familiar, fluid rowing motion and propelled the small boat toward the shore.

Gibbs met the boat at the waterline and helped his captain pull it farther up onto the sand. He noted that Jack had called upon his uncanny ability to hide pain and was, as always, amazed. He smiled to himself and shook his head, chuckling slightly. "Tough as a rock, eh Jack?"

Jack met his quartermaster's gaze with a playful light dancing in his eyes. "Tougher, Gibbs. Tougher. Now's where's the boy?"

ZzZzZzZzZzZ

The pirate captain paused in the doorway and inhaled the breeze traveling through the open window deeply. When he opened his eyes they were focused on the horizon, of which the hall window provided an excellent view. His dark lady stood moored in the small harbor, sails furled, and bobbed gently on the tide. Even without direct contact with her, Jack took comfort in her gentle movements. He knew she would wait for him until the end of time if need be…

It would not be until the end of time, but a few extra days at least, depending upon the boy's health.

Jack started at a clattering sound from across the room. He pushed himself away from the doorframe and all the way into the room, fixing his gaze on the dark-haired youth. An upturned tray of half-eaten breakfast foods rested on the floor.

"Quién…dónde…"

Jack held up a hand, silencing the wide-eyed youth who had pinned himself in the corner at the head of his bed. With his hand up in a commanding gesture, Jack took a moment to study the boy. He had dark hair—almost black—and his eyes were pale green. Scraps of black, red, and white silk garments still hung from his lean frame and he looked to be just under twenty.

Jack grinned and plastered a diplomatic expression on his face. "Hola. ¿Como se llama?"

The youth blinked and relaxed at the familiar sound of his own language. "Hola señor. Me llamo Kole."

Jack's grin disappeared instantly and he regarded the boy quizzically. "¿Habla inglés?" The boy nodded. "Thought so," Jack said with a satisfied grin. "No offense, but 'Kole' is not a very Spanish name, mate. There a last name that goes wi' that?"

"Booke."

"Ah," Jack breathed. "I'm not familiar wit' that name. You fresh to the seas, boy?"

"Fairly, I will admit."

Jack nodded and crossed his arms, allowing silence to settle somewhat awkwardly in the room. Kole shifted nervously and took the opportunity to look Jack over warily. Jack accepted the scrutiny in silence and leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes.

"Excuse me, sir,"

Jack opened one eye lazily. "Aye?"

"Where are we…exactly?"

Jack grinned. "Ah, now that's a secret." Kole's brow furrowed and Jack sighed. "Suffice it t' say that we're in a manor, on an island, in the Bahamas, in the Caribbean, savvy?"

"Yes, I…savvy…" Kole said slowly, turning the elder's words over in his mind curiously.

"My crew found you washed up on the beach, boy. May I ask what happened t' yer ship and her crew?" Kole lowered his eyes and fixed his gaze on the blankets. His shoulders sagged wearily and he sighed but did not answer. Jack crossed one ankle over the other, still leaning against the wall, and waited in silence.

"She…they're gone." Kole's whispered answer was barely audible.

"Sorry t' hear that. What was her name?"

"The _Honest Shyster_."

Jack quickly suppressed a chuckle. "Interesting name; very articulate. She sounds like a real handful. Definitely not Navy. But still, the name is a strange one fer a merchant. Unless…" Kole's intense green eyes focused on Jack and bored into him, daring the elder man to finish his sentence. "Out of curiosity, what flag did she sail under?"

"Who are _you_, sir?" Kole asked quickly, changing the subject to a less intrusive one. "You now know quite a bit about me and I still do not know your name."

One corner of Jack's mouth tipped up in a grin, showing the glint of a single gold tooth. "Don't ye know already, mate?" Kole regarded him quizzically. Jack sighed and pushed himself away from the wall, taking a few steps so he was standing in the center of the room. "Captain Jack Sparrow, at your service." He bowed awkwardly, swaying on his feet with his arms extended to help him balance. When he retuned his gaze to the young man he was met by a purely amused expression. "What?"

"_You_ are Captain Jack Sparrow?"

"Yes…and you can't use the excuse that you've never 'eard of me – you obviously have."

"I'm sorry sir but I think you're playing me for a fool. The Jack Sparrow I've heard of is much more dangerous and…eccentric."

"Danger—eccentric?" Jack repeated in a whisper, looking down at himself with a frown. He belatedly realized that he had left his effects and a vast majority of the trinkets that usually adorned his hair in his room. All that was left was a small strand of beads at the back of his skull. He wasn't even wearing his bandana or kohl. "I suppose by looks I'm not," Jack conceded, "but trust me mate, I _am_-"

"Cap'n,"

Jack shot an annoyed look over his shoulder at Gibbs who had just stepped into the room. "Ah, Gibbs, welcome. Kole Booke, this is Joshamee Gibbs, quartermaster aboard the _Black Peawrl_. Excuse us for a moment, won't you Master Booke?" Jack turned to face Gibbs and led him back out into the hall, partially closing the door behind them. "Now Gibbs, what's all this?"

"Sorry to interrupt Cap'n, but _they_ requested to see you."

Jack brought his hand to his mouth and let it slide down his chin thoughtfully. "Right," he said absently. "Oyi, with all this commotion with the whelp an' all I _completely_ forgot. Thanks Josh." Jack clapped Gibbs on the shoulder and began jogging down the hall.

"What shall I do with Booke, Cap'n?"

"Anything but get 'im drunk. He's a little young yet."


	3. Just the Natives

_Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all associated characters belong to their respective owners. I just play and give back. All I can lay claim to are the OC's in this story – and not even them. They own themselves, alright? I guess I come out with nada. Sadly._

**_Author's Note: Once again, any complications with the Spanish language are due to me having dropped the language…I wasn't that terribly far along anyway. Please be forgiving. This chapter is late because for awhile would not allow me to login. Boo._**

**_Dedication: I dedicate this chapter to my grandpa who is sick in the hospital with cancer at the moment…also, dedication goes out to my friends who are helping me through this little dilemma: Cap'n Julie and my pal Nick. Thanks much guys._**

Chapter 3 – Just the Natives

Jack sauntered across the yard behind the manor, covering the distance quickly but subtly, hiding his haste as best he could. He would _not_ be seen in a disheveled rush.

He reached the first of the sheds and threw the door open. The pirate captain paused in the doorway and looked out the back of the shed, which extended as a lean-to into a small paddock. Jack grabbed a bridle off the wall and whistled loudly.

A loud snort filtered in from the paddock and a dapple gray hesitantly entered the shed at a four-beat pace. Jack held up a hand and the horse stopped though it still shifted nervously. Jack stood beside the animal's head and expertly slipped the bit into its mouth and pulled the joined reins over its head.

The horse snorted again, this time angrily.

"Fine," Jack muttered, taking a step over to a bag hanging from a nail in the wall. The horse's ears pricked expectantly. Jack reached into the bag and drew out a small amount of granular sugar. He offered it to the horse who eagerly accepted, licking his hand clean. "S'not like you need _more_ energy." Jack wiped his hand unceremoniously on his breeches and led the horse out into the yard.

"Capitán,"

Jack cast his gaze to the source of the voice and found a wiry dark-skinned man walking toward him.

"Lo siento señor, debo haber cuidado del caballo-"

"Es bien. Debo ir ahora." The man bowed his head and backed a few steps away from Jack and his mount. "Téngalo por favor." The man responded instantly and moved forward, taking hold of the horse's reins just below the animal's muzzle.

Jack took up a handful of the horse's silvery mane and the equine stepped away from the pirate. "Stop that," Jack scolded, standing square by the horse's shoulder so he was facing its hindquarters. He took a deep breath and moved forward quickly, using his shoulder as a leverage point and hoisting himself up onto the horse's back. He collected the reins and nodded to the stable man, who released the reins.

The horse snorted and attempted to catch the bit between his teeth. When Jack applied a light pressure to the gray's sides, the stallion reared, squealing in protest. Jack leaned forward heavily on the animal's neck and worked at forcing him down. The stallion screamed again. "Knock it off!" Jack snarled into the gray's mane. The stallion snorted and dropped to all fours, dancing in place.

"Finally," Jack muttered, touching the stallion's right side lightly. The dapple gray moved into an energetic walk—bordering on a trot—and Jack steered him through the yard, around the manor, to the shore. The horse trotted eagerly into the wet sand and Jack turned him up along the eastern coastline. Jack tapped one heel into the horse's left side, urging him into a canter.

The dappled stallion lunged into a smooth rocking motion, cantering through the waves rolling in and crashing against the shore.

It was no more than a fifteen-minute ride but Jack had appearances to keep up. He turned the stallion inland and together they trotted into the native camp, stained by the sea.

Whispers rose in the native tongue from the natives and were shortly replaced by calls of 'Capitán!'

Jack brought the horse to a stop and a tribesman rushed forward, taking the horse's reins below the animal's muzzle. Jack slid off the animal's back and allowed the native to lead his mount away.

A man with dark skin and black hair interspersed with gray streaks moved forward from the semi-circle of natives. Despite his apparent age he was in good physical shape. A heavy plated necklace of gold covered his bare muscular chest and cuffs of gold encircled his wrist. His ears were pierced multiple times with gold hoops highlighted by raw gems. Shades of blue and purple stained his face and midsection and formed tiger stripes on his upper and forearms. A sarong of burgundy silk encircled his waist.

The man stopped a few feet away from Jack and the two bowed.

"_Capitán,_"

"_Caciques,_"

The chief smiled and Jack returned the expression with a golden grin. "Dé la bienvenida señor. He estado esperando para verle."

"Disculpas. Una problema surgió."

"I see." The chief's eyes held a knowing glow.

"How's your English coming along, Caciques? Are my men good teachers?"

"They are…most excellent," Caciques said slowly, "thank you." He extended his right hand, which Jack accepted. Caciques clamped his left hand around Jack's wrist and smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Come, let us eat."

"That's got to be the best idea I've heard all day, mate."

Caciques slung an arm across Jack's shoulders and the two walked over to the large fire pit. A scantily-clad woman with light blue paint smeared across her body carefully laid out a cotton blanket that was three times as long as it was wide. Caciques and Jack settled themselves on the blanket and watched as two tribesmen set about lighting the dry tinder aflame. Dusk had settled upon the land.

The same woman who had laid out their blanket returned with an earthen tray loaded with flat pieces of bread composed of grated plant parts. She placed the tray before the men and gave Jack a long, seductive look before walking off to retrieve another tray.

Another woman, with yellow paint on her body, approached with a coiled pitcher and two cups. She handed each man a cup, avoiding eye contact, and quickly but carefully filled the cups before rushing off.

Jack quirked an eyebrow and cast a curious glance at Caciques.

"She is young. She has no…fear for our culture."

"Appreciation?" Caciques gave Jack a strange look. "A combination of understanding and awe, I suppose you could say," Jack explained. Caciques nodded.

Jack reclined on the blanket, propping himself on one elbow and crossing his feet at the ankles. He gazed silently out at the gilded ocean, watching the sun sink below the horizon.

"Capitán,"

Jack started from his reverie and met the dark gaze of the blue-painted woman who now brandished a tray laden with freshly picked fruits. A slow golden grin spread across Jack's face and he casually plucked a pair of guavas and a slice of pineapple off the tray. Jack raised his cup in salute as the woman turned and walked off jauntily.

"_I didn't do anything!_" Jack and Caciques looked up from their meal at the shout from the beach. Caciques rose as three of his men dragged a struggling young man toward the fire. Jack looked down at the blanket, barely suppressing a chuckle.

"Release me at—Jack!"

Jack looked up at met Kole's confused expression with a serious one of his own. The firelight flickered across the pirate's face, casting half of it in cruel shadows.

"_Capitán Sparrow!_" One of Caciques' men corrected, knocking Kole on the side of the head roughly.

A grin broke across Jack's face. "Libérelo." The men holding Kole pushed him forward, releasing him in the same motion. Jack clapped his hands slowly thrice, still grinning broadly. He met Kole's confused gaze with laughter glowing in his dark eyes.

Caciques kneeled and leaned toward Jack, invading the man's personal space, though the pirate did not take notice. "_Who is this?_ One of your crew acting as a spy or hidden guard?"

The tension burdening the chief's voice sobered Jack's mood and drew his gaze. "Caciques, you know—or I thought you did—that I would _never_ do something like that. I know your people's history and betraying your trust would be the worst thing I could ever do."

"Who is he then?"

"A boy. His name is Kole Booke and my crew found him washed up on the southern coast early this afternoon." Caciques sat, accepting the information as truth. Jack's gaze flicked from the chief and landed on Kole. "How did you follow me? To have followed me when I came, you would have had to have run quickly and silently—which I doubt you did—so how?"

Kole's eyes were wide and locked fearfully on the gathering before him. His jaw was slightly loose but he did not speak, nor did he give any indication that he had heard the pirate.

"_Kole!_" The young man jolted back to reality and looked blankly at Jack. "How'd you follow me, boy?"

"I…um…uh...I..."

"Gather yer thoughts, then speak. Savvy?"

"Yes…I, uh, savvy," Kole answered immediately. Jack rolled his eyes, a gesture that made Caciques chuckle. "The horse."

Jack and Caciques both raised an eyebrow in silent puzzlement. "I don't quite follow, lad."

"I tracked the horse."

Jack wiped all expression from his features as quickly as one would wipe chalk from a board. "Ah, you know horses then."

"Yes sir."

"Blacksmith?"

"No sir, veterinarian."

"Animal doctor?"

"Aye sir. Horses mostly."

Jack absorbed the information silently and a grin slowly spread across his face. "I like you boy."

Kole's stance became rigid once more. "May I ask…why sir?"

"Yer a good lad, you understand propriety. Although 'sir' is almost too formal fer a pirate; 'Cap'n' will do."

"Yes si—Cap'n," Kole replied automatically, relaxing slightly.

"So tell me Kole, what did you do before you went on the account?"

Kole tensed again. "I was never a pirate."

Jack waved his rebuff off with one hand lazily. "Believe what you like, lad." The pirate captain collected his untouched food and dragged himself to his feet. Once standing, he downed the strong ale made from fermented corn and handed the cup to a nearby woman. "Caciques, thank you for your hospitality my friend. I apologize for having to leave so abruptly."

Caciques rose and wrapped his hand around Jack's wrist. "I understand Capitán. When do you leave?"

Jack was silent for a moment, his gaze focusing on the crackling fire and becoming slightly unfocused. "A week or two or more, I suppose."

Jack's gaze broke away from the flames when the snort of a horse drew his attention elsewhere. Two natives—one on either side of the horse's head—led the dappled stallion over to where Jack and Kole stood. Jack accepted the horse's reins with a muttered 'gracias' and began leading the animal toward the shoreline absently.

Kole began to follow Jack but was brought up short when Caciques placed a firm hand on his shoulder. Kole turned a curious gaze to the elder.

"Keep a close eye on Capitán Sparrow tonight," Caciques instructed, "he does not seem well." Kole nodded a hasty, somewhat fearful, acknowledgment and jogged across the beach after Jack.

"Get on th' horse, boy," Jack grumbled quietly.

Kole paused at the horse's side, looking at Jack out of the corner of his eye.

"Need a leg up?" the pirate inquired gruffly.

Kole started, as if just realizing the pirate's desire to get underway. "Oh, no,"

"Then what's takin' yah?"

The boy did not answer and instead placed his palms on the horse's back and jumped. Once his stomach was resting on the animal's spine, he swung his right leg over and collected the reins. Jack released his grip on the reins and began walking. Kole encouraged the horse forward.

Moonlight rained down from the sky and the stars shone as bright pinpricks of light in the vast expanse of bluish-blackness. The horizon stretched on forever, seemingly endless, illuminated by the celestial bodies above. Waves gently rolled in from the sea, brushing against the pale sand with quiet whispers, bringing their stories ashore.

Jack led the way along the shoreline, followed closely by the strangely calm stallion and his rider.

Kole looked down at Jack cautiously, fearful that the pirate would take offense to his silent scrutiny. After several minutes of nothing but Jack plodding along, sparing no glance in any direction, Kole relaxed significantly and observed the infamous pirate before him more closely.

One of the first things Kole had noticed about Captain Jack Sparrow, since the man had not had his effects, was his stance and peculiar gait. The pirate, even while stationary, seemed acutely unaccustomed to dry land. While standing still he swerved in place ever so slightly as if moving in tune with the gentle rock of a ship. However, his strange sense of equilibrium was most obvious when the man walked. He would saunter across a flat plane, compensating for the tilt that would be present on a ship, as if unaware that he strolled on stationary land. His hands often were held upright or out to the side and bobbed with each step, as if he used them for keeping balance.

But now, as Kole gazed down at the pirate, he noted that Sparrow's movements seemed over-exaggerated; abnormal even for Jack. Throughout the duration of their walk, Jack's walk had moved from casual, light swagger to heavy, truly unsteady steps.

Jack's next step landed awkwardly and his weight was pressed on the side of his ankle as his foot twisted in the sand, sending the pirate tripping toward the horse. The stallion hesitated, tossing his head up in protest of the intrusion of his space. Jack righted himself and continued walking, though he now kept pace with the stallion and one hand laid firmly on the animal's shoulder.

They approached the manor and Kole was surprised to see that only a single lantern burned outside the stables.


	4. Another Roadblock

_Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all associated characters belong to their respective owners. I just play and give back. All I can lay claim to are the OC's in this story – and not even them. They own themselves, alright? I guess I come out with nada. Sadly._

**_Author's Note: I had a hard time with deciding where to end this, but I took my friend's advice and ended it…where it ended. Heh. I'm posting this after returning home from my most unpleasant experience at the community theater. Y'know, some people just rub you the wrong way and take their time in dealing with you, enjoying your torment… Yipes! That sounds almost like me! XP Erm…carry on mates!_**

Chapter 4 – Another Roadblock

A light, salty breeze floated in through the open window of Ana's room on the second story of the manor, bringing with it the lulling sounds of the ocean lapping against the shore. Ana laid still on her bed, content but awake. She rolled over so that she was facing the open window and reveled in the way the pale moonlight seemed to give her skin an unearthly glow. Her eyes slowly drifted shut and she exhaled quietly, willing herself to stop fretting and get some sleep. Jack would return soon enough.

Just as she entered the peaceful half-wakefulness before sleep, a thud followed by a metallic clang rang from the floor below and drew her to attention. Her hand darted across the small distance to the bedside table where she kept her dagger and pistol.

Ana carefully lifted the pistol, leaving the dagger behind, and rose. She silently crossed the room and paused at the doorway, listening intently for any other sounds.

An almost inaudible series of thuds started at a distance and slowly drew closer; someone was climbing the stairs.

Ana listened a moment more, thinking that perhaps the unknown intruder was simply Jack returning but there was something amiss with the steps – they did not belong to Jack's indicative gait.

The female pirate opened the door as silently as she could and slipped out into the hallway. She absently wondered what kind of threat she would pose: a woman, clad only in her nightgown, armed with an empty pistol. But the intruders couldn't know it wasn't loaded…

The steps drew ever nearer and soon Ana could discern one—two?—figures from the shadows, making their way unknowingly toward her.

"Stop right there," she growled quietly, bringing the pistol up. When the now distinctly two figures did not give her any notice, she reinforced the command by drawing back the pistol's hammer.

The two stopped just short of the line moonlight spilling into the hall from the slightly ajar room door.

"What do you want here?" Ana inquired dangerously, being sure to keep to the shadows to best conceal her location in case they were armed.

"'na?"

Ana lowered the pistol immediately. "Jack? Who's with you?"

"I am," Kole answered quickly, stepping into the moonlight.

"Wait, how did you—never mind," Ana said lowly, belatedly realizing that Kole was bearing most of Jack's weight. Why, she had no idea. "Jack, are you alright?"

"I'm not sure." It was not Jack who had answered, but rather Kole.

"I wasn't askin' you, whelp," Ana snapped, moving to stand on the other side of her captain. She found his arm hanging limply at his side and placed it over her shoulders. She hooked her near arm around his waist, taking the pirate's weight off of Kole. Jack leaned heavily against her and she found his lack of rejections strange, but quickly she turned her attentions back to Kole. "You know where your room is, so go. We'll deal with you in the morning." Without waiting to see if he would obey, Ana half-dragged Jack down two doors to his room.

Ana fumbled with the doorknob for several moments and cursed under her breath when the door didn't open.

From behind her she heard the light footfalls that told her Kole had decided to do as she bade. The information did little to help her current mood.

"_Jack,_" she growled, realizing that he had earlier locked his room door. Deciding that she didn't fancy searching her captain for the key, she turned them both around and dragged Jack's virtually motionless form back down to her room. She felt more of his weight being pressed upon her with each step.

She pulled him into her room and used her foot to lever the door mostly closed before she carried him over to the bed. She lowered him onto the soft mattress with as much care as she could, still uncertain as to the source of his sluggishness. She knelt and removed his boots, placing them neatly near the foot of the bed.

From her kneeling position she looked up at her captain lying droopily on his side on the bed, his eyes closed and his features slack. She reached up and lightly placed the back of her hand on his forehead, testing his temperature. Jack flinched belatedly away from her touch and his eyes opened ever so slightly

"Jack," Ana whispered, "what's wrong with you?"

Jack shifted his near arm lethargically and exhaled. His unfocused eyes fell shut and his body went completely limp.

Ana drew her hand away and sat back on her heels with a thoughtful frown. She sat there for several minutes, listening to the sounds of the ocean and Jack's slow, even breaths. The awkward angle at which he laid annoyed her and she adjusted his position, taking care not to wake him.

Deciding that she could not leave her captain unattended, she quietly removed two blankets from the sea chest at the foot of the bed and sat in the puddle of moonlight on floor between the window and the bed. One blanket she rolled into a ball and placed on the floor before her. The other she opened and covered herself with as she laid down, resting her head on the rolled blanket.

ZzZzZzZzZzZ

Sunlight penetrated the lingering shadows of the room, taking special care to illuminate the middle section of the bed with a large, hot rectangle of light. Jack moaned and rolled away from the intrusive glow.

The pirate captain managed to ignore the burning sunlight for another hour before he finally gave in and opened his eyes.

Jack heard a pounding sound from the hallway and faintly heard Gibbs calling for him through the heavy door. "Stop yer yellin' an' poundin' Gibbs! Enter," Jack called, still not fully awake.

"But th' door's locked, Cap'n," Gibbs returned.

Jack cast his gaze to the door and his brow furrowed in confusion. "What're ye talkin' about man? Th' bloody door's _open!_"

Gibbs was silent for a moment and Jack heard hesitant steps out in the hall that seemed to dawdle before they reached the ajar door and Gibbs poked his head in.

"Cap'n," Gibbs began slowly, "may I ask why yer in Ana's room?"

Jack's retort died before it left his mouth and he looked around the room, for the first time realizing that it, indeed, was not his. He sat in silence for a few moments, taking in the space around him. "Tha's interesting."

"Where's Ana?"

"Good question, Gibbs. 'ave you checked downstairs…or perhaps my room?"

"Aye Cap'n, I'll do that now."

After Gibbs' departure, Jack yawned and ran a hand down his face, playing with his braided beard absently. He raised his hands above him and stretched, grimacing as stiff muscles protested their use. With a sigh he returned his arms to his sides.

Jack cast a curious glance over his shoulder, out the window, where he could just see the shoreline gleaming in the afternoon sun. He crawled across the bed and stretched one foot toward the floor, intent on catching a glimpse of his _Pearl_. He stopped short when his bare foot brushed against something warm and soft that felt very much alive. He looked down curiously and was very much surprised to find Ana lying on the floor in her nightgown, her face contorted in a fitful expression. A single, thin blanket was wrapped tightly around her legs and she was sprawled in an awkward position, still fitfully asleep.

Jack drew his leg back up onto the bed and laid on his stomach, gazing down at Ana with a gentle expression. He crossed one wrist over the other and quirked his head. Ana shifted quickly in her sleep and a small moan escaped her.

"Ana," Jack whispered. He reached down with one hand and gently ran his fingers along her jaw. The heat radiating from her skin caused him to freeze and he stared down at his first mate in confusion. He gently laid the back of his hand against her clammy forehead and his concern multiplied. "Ana?"

ZzZzZzZzZzZ

Jack plodded wearily out of Ana's room and Thomas, the ship's surgeon, closed the door behind him. The pirate crossed the hall and turned, pressing his back against the wall. He slowly slid down the wall and drew his legs to his chest once he was seated. He rested his chin on his knees and sighed, allowing his eyes to droop shut.

_"Come on Jack, come on, don't do this…" Ana whispered vehemently as she struggled against her fevered captain, ignoring the sweat that dripped from both their brows. She kept her hand firmly planted on his jaw and fought to bring his head around so she could get at least some liquid between his lips. For him being so ill, he was certainly as strong as ever._

_With a wild jerk of his head, Jack managed to slip free of her grasp. "Jack!" Ana hissed, her patience spent. She had a good mind to slap some sense into him but when she realized that his fever-glazed chocolate eyes were open and locked on her face, her anger melted. "Jack," she breathed, shoving loose strands of dark hair behind her ear._

_"'na?" His tone was quiet and confused, slurred heavily by his illness._

_"Aye Jack, I'm here."_

_His eyes grew slightly less focused as he fought the wave of fatigue that washed over him, but he tried his best to keep his speech even. "'na, I…"_

_"Go ahead Jack, I'm listening," Ana said reassuringly as she placed a gentle hand on one side of his face and tried to hide her concern over the blazing heat that emanated from his tanned skin._

_Only half-conscious, Jack leaned into the warm feeling of Ana's hand. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, taking comfort in her presence. He had to fight hard against the darkness but he managed to open his hazy eyes again and meet her gaze. Darkness waited on the edges of his vision, pushing in, trying to consume him…_

Jack opened his eyes with practiced slowness, avoiding giving the other presence the impression that he had been caught dozing. He raised his head and looked casually to his right, ignoring the protest of his sore neck muscles. "Well?" he questioned Thomas casually.

"The fever isn't as severe as I feared it might be. From what I can tell it's not life-threatening but we have to keep her cool enough."

Jack nodded his understanding, masking his relief. "Has she been awake t'all?" The momentary glint in the surgeon's eyes told Jack all he needed to know. "Very well," the pirate captain said as he rose slowly, irritated by the tingling in his legs and rear.

"I'll return to check on her in a few hours' time. If you need anything, don't hesitate to summon me."

Jack nodded and absently waved Thomas away. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully for a moment, keeping up the nonchalant pirate captain façade for a few moments longer. When the sounds of Thomas's even footfalls died into nonexistence Jack pushed himself away from the wall and entered Ana's room, closing the door behind him.


	5. On the Prowl Again

_Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all associated characters belong to their respective owners. I just play and give back. All I can lay claim to are the OC's in this story – and not even them. They own themselves, alright? I guess I come out with nada. Sadly._

**_Author's Note: Well, I've got loads of good news for y'all. Firstly, Diia has returned from the exotic Canadian wilderness and she's been writing up a storm. We wrote about 4 pages that'll come somewhere toward the middle/end of this story, but I'm not complaining – any writing is good. And once we got that idea down in good writing, she was kind enough to finish this chappy for y'all! Yay!_**

_**The second piece of good news is that my grandpa went in for surgery this morning to scrape out the cancer. From what I've heard, the surgery was successful, grandpa is doing good, and the surgeon is thinking they got most—if not all—of the cancer out! So thanks to all who have been praying for him.**_

Chapter 5 – On the Prowl Again

Ana flinched irritably away from the damp cloth running across her forehead. Despite her attempts to avoid its cool touch, the cloth returned and continued wiping itself against her warm skin.

With some effort Ana opened her eyes and managed to glare at the figure holding the cloth. The damp feeling quickly retreated and Kole pressed himself as far back in the chair as he could go and dropped the cloth, looking for all purposes like a trapped mouse. Ana sighed heavily, closed her eyes, and groggily dragged herself into a sitting position.

"How are you feeling?" Kole ventured hesitantly.

Ana rubbed the remaining moisture from her forehead and fixed a gentler gaze on Kole. "I've been worse. Now, git out an' close th' door after yerself."

Kole froze where he was, tense and unsure of what to do next. Ana's gaze focused into a glare, daring him to do anything but what she had ordered. "_Now_," Ana snarled, the dangerous lioness once more.

The chair legs grated against the floor as Kole pushed himself away from her and moved toward the door, attempting to hide his haste. The door slammed shut behind him and Ana grinned to herself.

She stood stiffly and stretched, absently wondering how long she had been abed. To remain standing took quite a bit more energy than she previously remembered, but she ignored this fact as she crossed to the chest at the foot of her bed and drew out a set of clothes. She slipped out of her nightgown and donned her sailor's garments slowly, wincing every now and again when a stiff muscle protested its use.

A knock sounded on her door and she spun to face it irritably. "Enter," she called, somewhat curious to see who it was.

The door slowly edged its way open and Gibbs poked his head in cautiously. When he saw that she was decently attired he opened the door all the way and entered with Kole following him much in the same fashion as a nervous puppy.

"Well?" Ana snarled, irritated that neither of them was Jack and at the same time grateful for the fact.

Gibbs cleared his throat. "You feelin' better, Anamaria?"

Ana raised one eyebrow and shrugged. "Good enough. Where's Jack?"

"Outside careening with the crew," Gibbs answered slowly, fearing to withhold information from her but at the same time wondering if not telling her would be for best.

Ana simply nodded, then pushed past the men and stepped out into the hall, heading for the stairs at a controlled pace. Her even footfalls were more frightening than the sound of her running would have been.

ZzZzZzZzZzZ

Ana stepped out into the heat of the Caribbean midday and took a deep breath of the salty air. Not far down the beach laid the dark figure of the _Black Pearl_, pulled ashore and tipped onto her side. Pulleys fastened to strong tree limbs carried limp ropes strung into the ship's rigging and many barrels littered the beach near the tree line. The men swarmed about the _Pearl_'s exposed hull like ants to a nest, many with their own hammer and scraping iron. Some opened the seams on the ship's hull that were badly damaged and packed them full of tar-reinforced oakum fibers.

As she approached, Ana squinted against the bright sun and sought out her prey.  
"Anamaria,"

Ana jumped at the closeness of the voice and spun to face it. Her hand went up and made contact with flesh other than her own, resulting in an echoing _smack_. Jack took a step back, one hand pressed to his sore cheek, and winced. He raised his other arm automatically in defense.

Ana quickly hid her surprise beneath a mask of cold indifference and planted her fists on her hips. "Captain Sparrow," she greeted professionally.

Jack gingerly lowered his arms and worked his jaw, checking the functionality of it. He quickly blinked a few times and met her gaze with his composed expression once more, though a hint of mischievousness glowed in his eyes. "I see yer doin' better, lass. Good t' know yer up and movin' and…slappin'."

Ana smiled wryly. "Serves you right for sneakin' up on me."

Jack returned the expression. "Who was sneakin'? If I were sneakin', you wouldn't have gotten the chance to slap me." Ana pointed a finger threateningly at him and his arms went up in defense again.

When no attack came after a moment, Jack lowered his arms and a severe expression appeared on his face. His eyes were black and impassive, but the set of his jaw told her she would not like what he had to say. When he took hold of her arm and pulled her away from the ship and crew, the feeling of dread doubled.

He pulled her into the shade on the tree line and sat himself down, pulling her down to the sand with him.

"What is it, Captain?"

Jack fixed his frighteningly serious gaze on her and she felt herself go cold. "Ana, are you sure you should be up and about? You had…uh…Thomas very worried."

Ana raised a brow in question and the chill of fear left her. "Yer being over-protective, Captain Sparrow." With that she pulled her wrist from his grasp and rose. She didn't even bother wiping the sand from her breeches before she joined the men in their tasks.

Jack watched her go with a solemn expression.

ZzZzZzZzZzZ

"Gibbs!" Ana called as the elder approached the doorway after the evening meal.

Gibbs stopped short of the door and turned. "Aye? What is it, miss?"

"Have you seen the Captain anywhere lately? He wasn't at dinner."

"Aye, he said something about going out to visit Caciques; told me to keep a sharp eye on Kole…who seems to have disappeared also."

The pair stepped aside to allow the rest of the crew to filter through the doorway and up to their sleeping quarters.

"I see," Ana said quietly, her eyes becoming unfocused. She nodded her thanks to Gibbs and moved toward the doorway.

"Ana," Gibbs called, stopping her, "take it easy. You really had us worried."

"So Jack claims," Ana snarled bitterly. She took another step toward the door.

"He was worried most of all. He'll have my hide if he knows I told you this," Gibbs muttered.

Ana turned back to face him. "What?" The dining hall was empty, save for the two of them, and Ana's voice echoed eerily.

"He refused to leave your side the first two days and nights. When he dropped from exhaustion, we locked him in his room to get some rest. After that, we convinced him to stick to night shifts and get some rest during the day. Even so, he hasn't gotten much sleep. Frankly, I was against him going out tonight, but he'd have none of it."

Ana was silent for many moments, taking the information in. When she met Gibbs' gaze again, there was a determined glint in her eyes. "I'm going after him, Gibbs."

"I know you are lass. But you didn't hear any of this from me, right?"

ZzZzZzZzZzZ

Moonlight claimed the gently rolling sea, gilding it an eerie silver. Firelight danced across the beach and the edges of the waves rubbing against the sandy shore. Sounds made by primitive instruments and voices pierced the night and Ana paced purposefully toward the dancing light.

"¡Parada!"

"Permita que mí pase," Ana growled at the darkness in a dangerous tone. She heard faint noises as the guards lowered their weapons and she proceeded stalking toward the large fire.


	6. Drinks All Around!

_Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all associated characters belong to their respective owners. I just play and give back. All I can lay claim to are the OC's in this story – and not even them. They own themselves, alright? I guess I come out with nada. Sadly._

**_Author's Note: I'm fairly sure I made a mistake with the Spanish in this chapter…if anyone catches it and can correct it, you get an extra ration of grog. :P Um…yea, Diia enjoyed helping me with this chapter, so please review and make her want to help me with the next one! (Shameless plug, I know!)_**

_**Well, despite the hopeful news I provided on my last update, my grandfather passed on the very next day. Blood clots traveled from his legs to his heart and lungs and he went into cardiac arrest.**_

**_Dedication: I dedicate this whole story to my grandpa who lived an eventful, healthy 86 years and instilled knowledge and the love of gardening in most everyone he came into contact with. He was joking up until the very end, and that's how I like to remember him._**

Chapter 6 – Drinks All Around!

Moonlight claimed the gently rolling sea, gilding it an eerie silver. Firelight danced across the beach and the edges of the waves rubbing against the sandy shore. Sounds made by primitive instruments and voices pierced the night and Ana paced purposefully toward the dancing light.

"¡Parada!"

"Permita que mí pase," Ana growled at the darkness in a dangerous tone. She heard faint noises as the guards lowered their weapons and she proceeded stalking toward the large fire. A familiar laugh rose from a large group of natives as she drew near and she suppressed a growl as she stalked closer.

Ana stopped several feet away from the fire and watched the scene in silence.

Seated on the far side of the fire was Jack, surrounded by both men and women from Caciques' tribe. Caciques sat beside Jack and had a hand pressed to the pirate's shoulder as the one swayed and his hands flitted in the air before him, weaving a tale. As he finished one part of his story, a chorus of laughs rose from the group, drawing even more listeners in.

A woman wearing barely a scrap of clothing pushed her way to the two leaders in the center of the group, bearing a coiled pitcher. Jack turned to greet her with a wide smile and raised his empty glass, which she filled. The firelight danced across his tanned features, casting severe shadows across his face. His few gold teeth reflected the firelight as he reached up and pulled the woman down into his lap, one arm wrapped around her waist. The woman leaned back into the pirate, letting another woman with yellow paint on her body take the pitcher from her to fill Caciques' cup.

Jack took a large swig from his cup, leaning back far as he drained its contents. Caciques' hold on the pirate's shoulder tightened as the pirate leaned forward quickly, though Jack didn't seem to notice. Jack kept his hold on the cup and looked to his audience, who eagerly awaited his next words.

The pirate captain narrowed his eyes, as if thinking back on where he had left off. "Ah yes, so then…" Jack trailed off as he swerved hard and only Caciques' strong grip on his shoulder kept him upright. The woman seated comfortably in his lap reached up and toyed casually with the trinkets strung through his hair, oblivious to his lack of equilibrium. Jack blinked heavily and swallowed. "Th' bloody foolish whelp goes an' smacks me upside th' 'ead wit' a paddle…th' only one th' whelp an' 'is lass left, I found later…interestin', tha'…" Jack swayed hard again and Caciques righted the pirate with both hands.

Ana had seen enough. She walked over to the group and shoved her way past the first few listeners who were oblivious to her presence and as she made her way nearer and nearer to Jack and Caciques the group split of its own volition, clearing a path for her. She stopped two feet in front of the seated men, glaring down at them dangerously. The woman in Jack's lap continued to toy with the trinkets in the pirate's hair.

"Sale," Ana growled at the woman, who turned a dark glare on the female pirate, abandoning her play with the trinkets. Ana's own glare darkened and the woman gave up in a huff, slipping easily out from under Jack's arm and disappearing into the crowd.

Jack looked dazedly up at Ana, his eyes hazy and heavily lidded. "Wha' tha' fer?" he slurred in question, narrowing his eyes as if trying to see her clearly.

Ana knelt in front of Jack and met his eyes, her gaze razor sharp in comparison. "Story time's over, Jack," she said lowly, hiding her concern at his condition. She cast a glance toward Caciques, only to find that he stood in agreement with her. They exchanged nods and each took hold of one of Jack's arms.

"¡Todos, salen!" Ana snarled loudly. Not one of the listeners moved to comply.

"¡Usted la oyó! ¡Vaya!" Caciques boomed. This proclamation, made by their chief, sent the natives scattering, clearing the space around the three in moments.

Ana looked over to give Caciques a grateful smile, only to find that he was already standing. Though he had released his grip on Jack's arm, he had placed his leg behind the pirate when he stood and Jack now leaned heavily back on said leg. She stood as well, keeping her grip on Jack's upper arm. Caciques bent down and secured his own grip on the pirate's other arm and together he and Ana lifted Jack's almost limp weight. Caciques wrapped one arm around Jack's waist and put the pirate's arm over his shoulders, supporting most of his weight.

Caciques easily half-dragged Jack across the sand and into the largest of the huts. Ana picked up the cup that Jack had dropped and sniffed it carefully. Her eyes watered and her lip curled upwards in distaste before she deposited the cup in the sand from whence she had retrieved it. With a new idea of what was ailing her captain, she stormed into the shelter.

When she entered she found Jack seated, albeit unsteadily, on a bed of leaves and Caciques stood near the door, only half-hidden in the shadows, looking incredibly amused. She cast a wary glance at the chief and knelt in front of Jack, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder.

The pirate lifted his head to meet her gaze, which in and of itself seemed to take great effort. She scowled mildly when he did finally look at her and she saw how glazed and heavy-lidded his eyes truly were.

"Jack," she began slowly, "how much have you had to drink?"

The pirate narrowed his eyes in concentration and was silent for many moments.

"At least a full pitcher – if not more," Caciques supplied in an amused tone. "Probably closer to two."

Ana's scowl darkened. "And you let him keep goin' without even watering it down, Caciques?" she demanded angrily, keeping her gaze locked with Jack's fading one. "You know that stuff you brew up is much too strong."

Caciques shrugged, though she missed the gesture.

"Nothin's too strong fer ol' Jack," the pirate argued heavily, his eyes only halfway open. "I ken 'andle 'nythin'."

"Uh-huh," Ana breathed, unconvinced.

Jack's brows furrowed slightly. "'na? Wha're ye doin' 'ere?" he asked, apparently just realizing she was indeed there.

Ana ignored his question and addressed Caciques again, looking at him as she spoke. "Did he at least get something to eat?"

"He was offered much but took very little."

"Figures, the bloody fool," Ana growled. "I'm surprised he's still awake!"

"'na…" Jack muttered, tugging on her sleeve. "S' go back…" He fell back, bracing himself with his hands and somehow managed to lever himself to his feet after a few tries. Once up he swayed severely, stumbling a few steps to either side.

Ana caught his arm and held onto him firmly. "Alright Cap'n, we'll go back. but first, let's have a drink to go, eh?"

Jack pressed a finger to his lower lip, apparently thinking her offer over. He looked as if there was something he was going to answer with, but he couldn't seem to find the words or the thought – much less combine them. With a sigh he resigned himself to a simple nod and she felt him start leaning toward her heavily.

"Caciques, could you get us something to drink?" she asked of the chief who had already disappeared. She turned her attentions back to Jack and found that his eyes were barely open and his legs seemed even more unsteady than they had been a moment ago.

Caciques returned with a coiled pitcher and three cups. Ana helped Jack to sit back down on the bed of leaves and accepted two of the filled cups from Caciques. She handed one to Jack, keeping her hand on it as his grip was incredibly slack.

"Than' ye," Jack mumbled, bringing the cup to his lips and taking a long drink. Ana subtly used her grip to pull the cup away from his mouth.

Ana took a small sip of her own drink and gradually let Jack take another drink, thereby draining the cup's contents. She winced mildly at the burn that swallowing the strong beverage caused. Jack allowed her to take his empty cup, which she gave to Caciques. Jack leaned heavily on Ana, resting his head on her shoulder. With each breath she felt him growing heavier and heavier and she quickly handed her cup to Caciques. She carefully wrapped her arms around Jack and lowered him to the bed of leaves, pleased with his lack of arguments.

Jack lethargically waved one hand in the air and looked up at Ana, his eyes mere slits. "We goin'?"

Ana nodded. "Aye Cap'n, that we are."

Jack barely nodded before his eyes fell shut and his hand slowly laid across his stomach. He took a deep breath and exhaled quietly, contentedly. His features slackened as Ana gently brushed the unruly locks of dark hair away from his face. His breathing fell into a soft, shallow rhythm and Ana toyed with a braid of his hair.

"Capitán Sparrow likes his drink almost as well as his ship," Caciques observed wryly.

"Unfortunately." Ana agreed grimly.

"He'll be fine by morning Miss Anamaria," the chief said kindly. "Except the Capitán will have one bloody headache."

Ana looked up at Caciques with a start, the braid dropping from between her fingers. "Since when do you speak like that?"

"Since I have pirates teaching me the manner of speaking Inglés." Caciques answered with a wink.

Ana's small smile melted into a frown as another thought struck her. "Now how am I gonna get this bloody fool back?"

"There's always his horse, if you simply must leave so soon."

Ana looked quite startled but she quickly hid it. "I'd rather not have to hold him onto the horse," she said quickly, "and there's no way me – or one of your men – is gonna drag 'im down the beach tonight."

Caciques shrugged. "I guess he's here for the night, since we've run out of options."

Jack groaned in his sleep and rolled onto his side, then stilled.

Ana sighed. "I'd best stay wit' him. Poor sod'll think we ran off with his ship again." She added the last in a whisper, letting her gaze soften as she looked down at her fretfully sleeping captain. When she looked up again, Caciques was gone and the door-flap closed in his wake.


	7. Fresh New Mishaps

_Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all associated characters belong to their respective owners. I just play and give back. All I can lay claim to are the OC's in this story – and not even them. They own themselves, alright? I guess I come out with nada. Sadly._

**_Author's Note: I can virtually guarantee that the Spanish has an error or two this time. -sigh- Please forgive if you catch it. I'm only now realizing that it's been a bit of a stretch since my last update and I apologize. I hate R/L. But don't we all?_**

**_Dedication: I dedicate this whole story to my grandpa who lived an eventful, healthy 86 years and instilled knowledge and the love of gardening in most everyone he came into contact with. He was joking up until the very end, and that's how I like to remember him._**

Chapter 7 – Fresh New Mishaps

Kole pressed through the forest's thick undergrowth, hastening in—what he thought—was the direction of the native camp. Originally he had intended to follow the tracks of Jack's horse down the beach, but he soon found that sneaking around the manor to reach the beach was nowhere near as easy as he had envisioned. So he had stolen into the woods at the back of the manor whilst the crew was eating their dinner and so began his long trudge.

The light of day was fading rapidly—not that there had been all that much light to guide him, given the thick foliage that blocked the sun's rays. If he looked up he could still see the warm glow of the sun through the wide leaves of the tropical trees, but that light did not quite reach the ground on which he walked. On the forest floor it was already as dark as night. Perhaps darker.

As he pushed through another wall of branches an unseen thorn sliced his upper arm and he winced, barely suppressing a cry of pain. Though his arm now burned and his legs ached, he pushed onward, occasionally tripping on an upraised root or small bush.

Several minutes later, as he was fast loosing hope, he heard voices up ahead. He continued moving forward, though he now strove to make less noise.

"El Capitán es un poco insensato."

"Yo no convengo; él es sabio. ¿Recuerda los cuentos?"

"Mentiras. Mentiras buenas. Pero miente todavía."

"¿Oyó tú eso?"

Kole froze mid-step, his breathing loud in the sudden silence that filled the forest. He thought he heard the two men moving off and so he pressed weight on his forward foot and jumped when a branch snapped beneath him.

Almost faster than he could react to the snap of the branch a knife materialized from the shadows of the forest and imbedded itself in his near shoulder. Kole let out a feral cry of pain and dropped to his knees amongst the thick foliage. He shakily clutched his shoulder and groped for the knife's hilt.

Footsteps crashed toward him through the foliage and were accompanied by the bouncing light of a torch.

Kole swallowed dryly and fought against the pain that was blurring his judgment. He should run, this he knew. But what he knew no longer mattered. His physical pain was overbearing and he felt his ability to act upon what common sense he had slipping away with each painful breath.

The light of the torch blinded him as the two men came to stand over his pathetic, trembling form.

"Es el cachorro de Capitán Sparrow."

Kole looked up hazily, the familiar name flooding him with relief. "You—you're Sparrow's men?" He couldn't be sure, but it appeared that the two men traded long looks that were hidden by the flickering torchlight.

"El Capitán no será complacido."

ZzZzZzZzZzZ

Gibbs sat hunched at one of the many tables in the common mess hall. A single candle flickered before him, burning low in its holder. Charts, inventories and a logbook were spread out on the table with the occasional half-finished report scattered about.

With a sigh the older sailor replaced his quill in its holder and sat back, lifting his mug to his lips. As he tipped the mug back to take a sip, a sharp knock sounded on the door.

The old salt returned his mug to the tabletop with a loud clank and rose quickly. Had Jack or Ana returned already? He paced briskly across the room and pulled the door open. Two of Caciques' men entered, toting a limp figure between them. Gibbs closed the door behind them and turned to face them with an inquisitive glance.

A worried frown creased the old sailor's brow. "Kole?"

The elder of the two natives released his share of the youth's weight to his partner and stepped forward with a solemn expression. "El chico movía furtivamente alrededor y-"

Gibbs raised a hand to silence the man. "I don't understand a word of Spanish. Tell me in English if you can."

The man was silent for a moment, apparently collecting his thoughts. Finally he spoke in heavily accented English. "The boy was…sneaking about in the jungle. We were guarding and heard him and thought he was an animal. Sounded very much like a large cat." During this explanation, Gibbs' gaze had traveled and landed on Kole, who hung heavily against the other native man with his head drooping so far forward that his chin rested on his chest.

"-nothing to tie it off with, so we left the knife in him."

Gibbs started from his blank stare and his gaze shot to the native who had spoken. "Knife?"

"In his shoulder."

Gibbs looked back to Kole whose left shoulder was stained crimson. His mind became carefully blank and fell back to a routine often used in past experiences of this nature. He nodded to the speaker and went to stand behind Kole, wrapping his arms around the unresisting youth's waist. "I'll take 'im from 'ere, thank you."

The younger nodded and released his supportive hold on Kole, letting the boy's weight fall into Gibbs' steady arms. With respectful bows the natives made their exit, closing the door silently behind them.

Gibbs moved to stand beside Kole and laid the boy's good arm across his shoulders. The old sailor then wrapped his arm about the boy's waist and lugged the limp weight over to the table to retrieve the candle.

With the nearly-spent candle in its holder in one hand and the heavy weight of the boy on the other arm, Gibbs made his way carefully up the stairs, down the hall, to Kole's assigned room. He nudged the ajar door completely open with the toe of his boot and half-carried, half-dragged the boy over to the low bed.

After depositing his burden, Gibbs closed the door and set about lighting the two lanterns that occupied the room. He blew out the almost-dead candle and placed the warm holder on the desk.

Gibbs rummaged through the chest at the foot of the bed and brought out several lengths of white cloth bandages as well as a bottle of rum. Along with the bandages and rum he brought one of the lanterns over and set it on the bedside table.

Kole had not moved an inch from where Gibbs had placed him. The old sailor sighed. "Ye've the right of it lad," he whispered as he sat on the edge of the bed and positioned the boy so his injured shoulder was nearest to the elder. Gibb's wrapped one hand carefully around the hilt of the dagger. "Ye wouldn't want t' be awake for this."

ZzZzZzZzZzZ

"That were a nasty trick Ana," Jack scolded, narrowing his eyes at her warily as she handed him a cup. He sat cross-legged on the leaf-bed, his boots discarded on the other side of the shelter.

"Not my fault you like to drink," Ana retorted, taking a sip of her own beverage. "And you should have known better than to drink so much on an empty stomach. Better yet, you should have known better than to drink so much of Caciques'—Jack? What's that look for?"

Jack smiled silkily at Ana and gently ran his fingers along her forearm, leaving goose-bumps in their wake. Ana's mouth tightened into a mild frown as she pulled her arm closer to her.

"Methinks I know why you did what you did, lass," Jack purred suggestively, moving his brows up and down with a sly grin. Ana's scowl darkened and her hand clenched into a fist in her lap.

Jack caught her wrist as her arm shot up. A more feral grin lit his face as he met her heated gaze evenly. "Only fair you get a lil' somethin' in return, eh?"

Ana's lip twitched and the fist that Jack held tightened.

"Now then lass, if I let you go, promise not to slap me?"

Ana inhaled deeply and her frown softened as she exhaled. She worked her jaw for a moment before setting it grudgingly. "Aye _Captain_."

Jack smiled easily and released her wrist in one exaggeratedly simple motion. He sniffed warily at the contents of his cup before taking a small sip. He grimaced. "Juice, lass? Couldn't you 'ave been a _tad_ bit nicer and spiced it up with some of Caciques' brew?" he paused a beat. "Or were you just not wantin' to repeat last night's activity? Or rather, the lack thereof?"

Ana scowled darkly and Jack raised one arm in defense. Instead of hitting him, Ana rose and drenched him with the contents of her cup as she brushed past.

Jack spattered and shook his head, sending droplets of juice flying in every direction. He glared after Ana, absently rubbing the juice from his face. "Maybe Gibbs was right after all," he mused as he rose.

The pirate winced as he left the shade of the hut and stepped into the bright midday sun. He brought one hand up to shield his eyes and scanned the sandy area that stretched before him. Strangely empty. Jack shook his head and reminded himself of the time. The smart ones were in the huts resting and the men were out hunting or fishing.

"Ah, Capitán Sparrow, glad to see you have decided you like _this_ world more than the one of your dreams," Caciques' deep voice greeted cheerfully.

Jack allowed himself to grin as he turned to face the chief, lowering his hand now that his back was to the sun. "Nice t' see you too, Caciques."

The chief's good-humored smile settled into a frown as other thoughts occupied his mind. "The lady Anamaria is angry with you. Again."

Jack nodded and rubbed at the sticky remnants of the juice coating his face. He turned and paced toward the incoming surf, ignoring the burn of the hot sand beneath his feet. Caciques followed.

Jack waded into the waves and the strong sea breeze whipped his unruly locks about him, giving him the visage of a wild and dangerous predator. He kneeled in the shallows and splashed the salty water on his face, rinsing the sticky beverage from his skin and hair.

"Jack,"

Jack started at the voice and threw his head up, sending droplets of water scattering about himself. He glanced over his shoulder, saw Caciques standing a foot away from him in the surf, then returned to washing the juice off.

"You mustn't let something as simple as this—an argument—keep you angry at her and her at you."

"Since when are you the advice-giver, mate? I thought that was someone else's job."

Caciques chuckled quietly. "Ever the fake man. Do not fear your true self, Capitán Sparrow."

Jack spun around, a retort fresh on his tongue, but Caciques was already halfway back to the village. His retort dead, Jack lowered his gaze to the constantly moving water at his feet.

ZzZzZzZzZzZ

Gibbs rubbed his forearm as he looked in at the sleeping form. He had gotten a rather fierce reaction when he had pulled the knife from the boy's shoulder and now wore a dark purplish mark for his efforts. But the force of the pain had also knocked the kid right back out and he had been sleeping ever since.

It was already past noon and Gibbs was beginning to worry.

**_Author's Note 2: While on the subject of the badly-written Spanish, I realize that I've not been providing non-speakers with translations! -is dumb- My apologies. I'll start changing that now…_**

_-El Capitán es un poco insensato. The Captain is a bit foolish._

_-Yo no convengo; él es sabio. ¿Recuerda los cuentos? I disagree; he is wise. Remember the stories?_

_-Mentiras. Mentiras buenas. Pero miente todavía. Lies. Good lies. But still lies._

_-¿Oyó usted eso? Did you hear that?_

_-Es el cachorro de Capitán Sparrow. It's Captain Sparrow's whelp._

_-_ _El Capitán no será complacido. __ The Captain will not be pleased._

_-El chico movía furtivamente alrededor y- The boy was sneaking around and-_


	8. Partings

_Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all associated characters belong to their respective owners. I just play and give back. All I can lay claim to are the OC's in this story – and not even them. They own themselves, alright? I guess I come out with nada. Sadly._

**_Author's Note: Yea, the muse has been finicky. Sorry about the delay. But on the plus side, we're working towards something for once – yay! XP_**

**_Dedication: I dedicate this whole story to my grandpa who lived an eventful, healthy 86 years and instilled knowledge and the love of gardening in most everyone he came into contact with. He was joking up until the very end, and that's how I like to remember him._**

Chapter 8 – Partings

Ana sat with her back to a palm trunk, glaring blankly across the beach, at the horizon that stretched before her. The shadows of the palm leaves constantly played over her dark skin, changing as the things that shaped them were flung about by the strong sea breeze. With a hollow sigh she drew her knees up and rested her chin on them, wrapping her arms around her legs. The stubborn expression on her face slowly melted into a comparatively empty one as her mind wandered.

"Lady,"

Ana started at the voice and swung her head around to look at the intruder. "Oh, it's just you," she muttered absently, returning her gaze quickly to the horizon.

"If I may?"

Ana's gaze returned to her visitor and saw that he had been asking for permission to sit beside her. She nodded her approval.

Caciques silently set himself down beside her, being sure to give her enough space. He watched the horizon intently, ignoring Ana's sideways glances. Apparently he was not inclined to speak again for some time.

Ana's irritation and curiosity got the best of her. "You wanted to talk to me?" Caciques nodded, though his gaze did not waver from the horizon. Ana looked down at the sand with a chagrined sigh. "It's about Jack, isn't it?" she asked somewhat bitterly.

"Why do you think thus?" Ana's gaze rose in alarm to Caciques' face. The chief smiled easily. "So he has been on your mind as of late."

Ana looked away quickly, trying to hide the blush that tinted her cheeks. When she spoke, she was careful to keep her voice gruff and cruel. "Perhaps. The bloody fool will drink himself to death soon, then I shan't have to worry about him anymore. I mean-"

Caciques grinned. "No need to explain, Miss Ana. I know you only care because he's your captain." His expression sobered considerably as he continued to look at the horizon. "Please don't stay mad at him, Miss."

Ana snorted. "You're here asking forgiveness for him? Is he too cowardly?"

"No. Just proud. And foolish."

"As always. That will never change. All Jack cares about is himself and his plans and his ship. Everything else is a trifle to him."

Caciques turned his intense gaze on Ana at this. "You truly believe so?" Ana nodded without hesitation. His expression softened and took on a somewhat sad light. "Believe what you will. But don't stay angry at him. Such grudges always end poorly."

"It was interesting talking with you, Caciques," Ana grumbled in parting as she dragged herself to her feet and paced dejectedly off down the shoreline.

ZzZzZzZzZzZ

When Ana reached the door to the manor, she paused with one hand poised to open it. She took several long, calming breaths and composed herself. It would do no good to stalk in there all flames and fury, when the object of her vexation was absent. Once she was sure she could trust herself to stand against almost anything, she opened the door and entered.

As if on queue, Gibbs appeared at the base of the stairs and stopped abruptly, giving Ana a relieved look that quickly turned curious. "Welcome back lass…where's Jack?"

"The Cap'n's doin' whatever 'e wants," Ana replied gruffly. "Where's the whelp?"

Gibbs chose to ignore her reaction to the topic of their captain and his mind returned to a more pressing matter. "In a bad way, Ana."

Ana's eyes flared with interest. "What?"

Gibbs motioned for her to follow him and they made their way upstairs, Gibbs telling the story of the previous evening's events as they went.

"He lost some blood, but I doubt it was enough to warrant this," Gibbs finished quietly as they reached the half-open door of Kole's room. Ana nodded absently and entered the room, followed closely by Gibbs.

"Hmm," Ana muttered to herself, crossing to the bed and sitting lightly on the edge. She laid a light hand on the boy's forehead and his eyelids fluttered. "Well, he's not feverish," she commented lowly, "I wonder…" She pulled the blanket away from Kole's shirtless torso. His shoulder was bandaged neatly, stained only slightly with old blood. She gently prodded at the bandaged wound, eliciting a wince and sharp intake of breath from the boy. "Gibbs, run and get some broth for the whelp. There's some leftover from lunch, yes?"

Gibbs quickly complied.

Ana looked the boy over in silence, awaiting Gibbs' return. When the old sailor reentered the room and set the cup of broth on the bedside table, Ana looked up with a wry smile.

"I don't like that look lass. What do you know that I don't?"

Ana chuckled. "Poor, foolish whelp," she muttered, "he's led such a sheltered life up 'til now. No wonder such a minor thing put him out for so long."

"Come again?"

"We're pirates so a little knife in the shoulder seems like nothing to us, but this poor sap 'asn't been injured badly in his whole life. No scars to evidence other injuries, anyway."

"Ah," Gibbs breathed, a relieved smile lighting his features, "I was just so used to treating Jack that this caught me off guard."

Ana's expression darkened considerably at the mention of their captain and she rose stiffly. "He'll wake up soon enough. When he does, make sure he drinks that broth." With that, she left the room and paced down the hall.

ZzZzZzZzZzZ

Caciques pulled the door flap aside and quietly entered the medium-sized hut. Jack lay shirtless on the bed of leaves with one arm laid over his eyes and the other hand resting on his stomach. His chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm and he made no indication that he had heard the other's entrance.

The chief waited just inside the door for a few moments, giving the other a chance to sense his presence. As soon as Jack's breathing sped up, Caciques spoke. "Capitán,"

Jack flinched almost imperceptibly and exhaled deeply. "Caciques. Just the man I wanted t' talk to."

Caciques sank to the sand floor of the hut and quirked his head slightly. "Is that so?"

Jack nodded beneath his arm. "Aye." There was a long pause as Caciques waited for Jack to collect his thoughts and continue. "I'm thinkin' that we'll be leavin' soon."

Caciques nodded. "I thought as much; you've stayed longer than usual. Your ship has been clean and restocked for days."

"Aye," Jack agreed quietly, "there's just one more thing I'm wantin' t' bring with."

"Name it, Capitán,"

"Could ye give me some bottles o' yer special brew? Several bottles."

Caciques' easy-going composure melted into a frown. "Capitán Sparrow," he began, "are you sure that's wise? You've already had two incidents where you've drunk yourself to unconsciousness-"

Jack sat up abruptly and fixed stern eyes on Caciques. "I know my bloody limit, Caciques. The last thing I need is you watchin' my back." He exhaled heavily and closed his eyes, struggling to regain his easy composure. When he reopened his eyes, the guards were back in place. "Please Caciques, just get me enough o' that t' last awhile. No tellin' when we'll return."

"I've heard rumors filtering down from your large hut about rat problems aboard your ship. I may have a solution."

"No cats," Jack countered quickly, "lil' buggers are too proud fer their own good."

Caciques raised his hands as if consenting to the point. "I was not about to offer any cats; alco were on my mind."

Jack quirked an eyebrow and tilted his head inquisitively. "Alco?"

The chief grinned and loosed a loud, piercing whistle that made Jack wince. Moments later, two small canines bounded into the hut and began licking at Caciques' face, persisting even when he tried to push them back. Caciques looked over the panting dogs and smiled faintly at Jack. "Alco."

"Mutts," Jack muttered, eyeing the dogs suspiciously. One turned its attention from Caciques and looked at Jack, sizing the pirate up. After a moment, its tongue lolled out and it crossed the hut in a single bound, planting itself happily in Jack's lap and licking wildly at his face. Jack tried to ward the animal off with one arm, but the dog was more persistent and soon had knocked Jack to the floor and was covering his face in drool.

Caciques chuckled and called the dog off; it obeyed, but not without casting a dejected look back at the pirate laying on the leaf-bed.

Jack ran a hand down his face and grimaced. "Definitely not bringin' them." caciques laughed outright and extended his hand. Lying in his palm was a gold medallion the size of a piece of eight with a raised engraving that crudely resembled a small bird in flight with a sphere clutched in its beak. The sphere was dyed black. "What's that?" Jack questioned, leaning forward to examine the medallion more carefully.

"A gift to you, Capitán, from my daughter, Aneaia. She is the shy one who served you at the feast a few nights back."

Jack carefully lifted the medallion out of Caciques' hand and looked it over. "The _Pearl_?"

Caciques shrugged. "One can only assume; she did not tell me much more than to give it to you."

Jack turned the medallion over and ran a grimy finger over the text carved into the soft metal. His brow furrowed. "What language is this?"

Caciques shrugged again. "She bade me not to tell you anything regarding the inscription. Only when you are able to read it for yourself will it have meaning."

Jack exhaled deeply and sat back. "Thanks a lot," he muttered darkly. "Now then Caciques, where's my rum?"


	9. Cold Receptions

_Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all associated characters belong to their respective owners. I just play and give back. All I can lay claim to are the OC's in this story – and not even them. They own themselves, alright? I guess I come out with nada. Sadly._

**_Author's Note: Whoot, this was certainly fun! Um...yea...please don't bite me. Either of us..._**

**_Dedication: I dedicate this whole story to my grandpa who lived an eventful, healthy 86 years and instilled knowledge and the love of gardening in most everyone he came into contact with. He was joking up until the very end, and that's how I like to remember him._**

Chapter 9 – Cold Receptions

"Enter," Jack drawled in response to the knock that sounded on his cabin door. He remained hunched over the charts spread over his table, a half-full bottle of rum in one hand and a dry quill in the other.

The door opened and closed and a short series of footsteps crossed the cabin, halting just in front of Jack's table.

The pirate captain reached across the table, dipped his quill, and jotting a few messy notes on a blank sheet of paper.

"Since when are you left-handed, Cap'n?" a feminine voice inquired curiously.

"Since I need t' be," Jack responded simply as he finished and placed the quill in the ink pot. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his feet at the ankles on the table top. "What d'you need?"

Ana tensed beneath his dark gaze and she set her jaw stubbornly. "The coordinates."

"T' where?" He casually took a long sip of his rum.

"T' wherever we're headed, _sir_," Ana growled back.

One side of Jack's mouth tipped upwards in a Cheshire grin. "Port Royal."

"Why?"

"Some business needs doin' there, savvy?" he growled darkly in reply. At seeing Ana's reaction to the tone, he immediately regretted the vehemence that had been behind his words.

"Fine then. Port Royal. Aye, _sir_." She turned on her heel and started toward the cabin door at an agitated pace.

"Anamaria,"

Ana froze mid-step at the tone of his voice. She closed her eyes and exhaled in vexation. Against her better judgment, she turned back around to face him and found him as she had expected: he had not shifted his position but the air of command that had surrounded him a moment ago was gone. For the moment he was no longer her captain; he was her friend. But she would not—could not—warm up so easily. "Aye sir?"

"Please lass, drop th' formalities. We need t' talk," he added quietly as he stood and moved toward her, around the table,

"I'm in no mood fer conversation, _cap'n_," she snarled, turning away from him again.

"Anamaria, please, just hear me out," Jack pleaded in a whisper, wrapping an arm lightly around her waist. Ana tensed beneath his touch and started to pull away, but his other hand caught her wrist and spun her back to face him. She cast an agitated look at his face but quickly withdrew her gaze. His dark stare bored into her and she felt utterly exposed.

"Lemme go," she growled lowly.

"I'm not holdin' you, luv," Jack whispered. Indeed, his air-light grip no longer detained her wrist in its confines.

"What d'you want?"

Jack was silent for several long moments in which time she continued to feel his intense gaze on her and her heart sped. Jack quirked his head slightly as if hearing something and Ana belatedly wondered if he wasn't hearing her racing pulse. She closed her eyes to focus on calming her nerves and started when, a moment later, his lips were pressed to hers. The contact was light and delicate but Ana thought she felt a powerful bond of trust and compassion forming between them.

After what seemed like an eternity, he pulled away and carefully searched her face with his warm eyes, silently searching for forgiveness. Ana moved into the circle of warmth surrounding him and traced his jaw line with her fingers. His eyes were warm and loving, but not unguarded.

They leaned into each other again and each closed their eyes as their lips met. For a few short moments, everything was as the first kiss: soft, gentle, warm. Ana pressed herself closer to him, wanting more.

Without warning Jack tensed and ceased his involvement in the kiss. His arms, which had been wrapped firmly about her, loosened their protective embrace and his hands moved to rest on her shoulders. Their weight sent chills of discomfort through Ana, banishing the heat that had flooded her veins not a full moment before.

Silently he pushed her back and let his hands slid down the rough fabric covering her arms. As soon as he had provided himself with enough space, he dejectedly made his way from the cabin.

ZzZzZzZzZzZ

The golden orb hung low in the dusky sky, sinking predictably toward his nightly rest. In the wake of his radiance, the sea was undulating with gold-capped waves. Black sails, tinted golden by the sun's waning light, billowed majestically in the brisk sea breeze, drawing the night-black ship along.

The _Pearl_'s smooth, dark hull sliced neatly through the gilded waters, carrying her human cargo faithfully toward their destination. The ocean spray was lifted high in the air by the breeze and dusted the ship's deck with liquid crystals.

Perched on the base of the bowsprit, Captain Jack Sparrow sat unnaturally still. His kohl-rimmed eyes were closed against the bright sunset and the same crystal droplets that decorated his lady adorned his rugged locks and cooled his tanned flesh.

Jack inhaled deeply, savoring the salty smell of the sea air. As he exhaled, he was chagrined to discover that his muscles did not relax as they usually did. His mind, likewise, remained cluttered with each and every thought; trivial or not. Disturbed by his inability to relax and zone out, the pirate captain opened his eyes and stared at the sinking sun. Slowly his eyes began to become unfocused and the guards to his innermost thoughts and feelings slipped away.

_So many years ago, it seemed so long ago, standing on a deserted beach barely a mile out from his hometown. He was not alone. Another was standing before him and they were silently examining each other's soul through each intense gaze. So much love on each side…_

Jack closed his eyes and shook his head weakly. His therapy wasn't working. These were the type of memories and thoughts that not even his _Pearl_ – his freedom – could save him from. He rested his elbow on the solid wood of the bowsprit and pressed a fist to his forehead.

Confident footsteps sounded behind him, but Jack chose to ignore their approach until the other stated their purpose.

"Cap'n,"

"Aye Gibbs?" Jack muttered belatedly without shifting his position.

"Were you wantin' t' take the 'elm, sir? Johnson's shift is nigh over."

Jack shook his head absently. "How long d'you figure th' crew can git along wi'out me, Gibbs?"

Gibbs froze in shocked silence for several moments, staring wide-eyed at his captain. Finally his thoughts congealed enough for him to respond. "Sir?"

"Answer man!" Jack snapped, turning burning eyes on his quartermaster.

"A-a day at most, I'd guess," Gibbs answered vaguely, trying to gauge the other's reaction. His discomfort caused by his captain's intense stare was obvious.

The fire in Jack's eyes died out quickly and he seemed suddenly harmless. "That'll be 'nough," he whispered to himself, casting his gaze to the side. "Gibbs," his gaze returned to the elder man, "you 'ave th' ship. Solve any problems by yerself; I'm not t' be disturbed, savvy?"

"Aye sir." Gibbs agreed reluctantly.

Jack nodded shortly and pushed himself away from the bowsprit. Tensely, he stalked across the deck and into his cabin. Once inside, he closed the door and locked it behind himself, ensuring his privacy. He cast his gaze almost guiltily about the cabin as if paranoid that some intruder would be there to negate his intentions.

After ensuring he was very much alone, he crossed the cabin and carefully opened an elevated two-door cabinet. The bottles, filled with dusky liquid, clinked as the motions of the ship gentle rocked them two and fro. Jack removed one medium-sized bottle from its place amongst the others and then fished around in the backmost reaches of the cabinet. His hand brushed a comparatively small bottle coated in dust and oily residue. With a grim half-smile he withdrew the small bottle from the cabinet and brought his two glass prizes over to the table. He opened the rum and took a long swig of the powerful brew.

Replacing the bottle on the table, he bent down to remove his boots. He straightened with a sigh and cast a vacant glance back at his bunk. Ignoring his lonely feelings, he shrugged off his vest and shirt, letting the garments fall unceremoniously to the floor. Regardless of the heat leftover from the day, his cabin seemed to carry an unearthly chill and Jack shivered despite himself.

He collected the smaller bottle and took a healthy swig, letting the tasteless oil roll over his tongue before he swallowed it. Slowly, he corked the bottle and replaced it on the table, taking up the rum bottle in its place. He threw back his head and downed a good portion of the strong alcohol. He took the rum with him as he crossed to his bunk and slowly sank to the bed's edge.

Already he could feel the combined effects of the sedative and the rum, but his mind stubbornly remained troubled by roiling emotions and thoughts. Shards of sad emotions, roused by memories had had thought suppressed, haunted him and tore at the fabric of his mind. Jack drained the bottle hurriedly, desperately desiring to silence his troubled thoughts and unbridled feelings. Though he was still seated, he swerved heavily to one side and almost toppled over. He ran a tired hand down his face and sighed. Soon enough silent, ignorant bliss would be his.

With no real purpose in mind, (except perhaps speeding the drugs' absorption,) he dragged himself from the mattress and swayed dangerously on his feet. He felt his body melting into listlessness and, without intending to, he fell back onto the bunk with a slight grunt. Keeping himself upright and his eyes open was proving itself an impossible fight when the effects of the liquids were weighing so heavily upon him, coaxing him toward a long and undisturbed slumber.

Giving in to the weight pressed upon him, Jack collapsed on his side and allowed his muscles to fully relax. His grip on the bottle diminished to nothing and it dropped to the floor with a weak thud. Jack refused to fight the darkness as it claimed his world and provided him the respite he so desired.


	10. Arrival

_Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all associated characters belong to their respective owners. I just play and give back. All I can lay claim to are the OC's in this story – and not even them. They own themselves, alright? I guess I come out with nada. Sadly._

**_Author's Note: Sorry for the delay. '_**

**_Dedication: I dedicate this whole story to my grandpa who lived an eventful, healthy 86 years and instilled knowledge and the love of gardening in most everyone he came into contact with. He was joking up until the very end, and that's how I like to remember him._**

Chapter 10 – Arrival

Jack moaned in response to the knocks sounding rudely on his door. The noise was muffled by the presence of his pillow and the pirate shifted lethargically. The knocking ceased and Jack exhaled, relaxing into a fresh position.

He flinched violently when the knocking resumed, louder this time. "Cap'n!" Gibbs nearly yelled through the door. "You're needed on deck, sir!"

"Blast it Gibbs," Jack growled, absently surprised at the weakness in his voice. "Didn' I tell ye t' solve yer own problems!"

"Aye sir, but-"

"Blast it, git yer tail in 'ere an' stop yellin'!" Jack snarled, his voice slightly stronger now.

"It's locked, sir."

With great effort, Jack lugged his head off of the pillow and hazily glared at the firmly shut and locked door. His body trembled of its own volition and he felt too weak and tired to move.

"Sir?"

"Comin' Gibbs," Jack muttered shakily, inching closer to the edge of the bed.

Gibbs placed one hand on the doorframe and rested some of his weight on it, waiting. He assumed he knew why Jack was taking so long to respond, but the man had proven him wrong on more occasions than he could count. Several thuds echoed from within the cabin, drawing the stares of a few crew members near enough to hear. Gibbs returned curious glances with cold stares, sending the men back to their tasks.

Finally he heard Jack clawing at the door and fumbling with the lock and he backed up a step. The door swung inward and Jack stood before him, shirtless and braced in the doorframe by a hand on either side. The younger was pale and doing his best to hide the fact that his whole body was trembling.

"Not a word Gibbs," Jack warned with a pointed finger, noticing the elder's knit brows. The pirate captain pushed himself off the doorframe and stood aside to allow the other to enter. Once Gibbs was inside, Jack closed the door and allowed his shoulders to slump as he leaned back on it.

Having expected the show of weakness, Gibbs moved quickly to his captain's side and took hold of his arm, offering his support. Jack waved him off and slowly paced over to the bed. With a sigh he sank gratefully to the mattress and held his head in his hands.

"What'd you do, Jack?" The elder was answered by a slow, vague swish of Jack's hand that seemed to direct the other's attention to the small bottle sitting on the tabletop. Gibbs picked the bottle up and squinted at its contents. "What's this?"

"Never mind." Jack mumbled, looking vacantly up. "What did ye need me fer?"

Gibbs replaced the small bottle and took a seat in one of the chairs. "Nothing at all. It's just that you were takin' an awful long time to make a reappearance." Jack quirked his head slightly and the elder took the hint to explain. "We're four days into the voyage, sir."

Jack's eyes widened fearfully and regained some of their focus. "Have th' boys noticed?"

"Nobody missed you when you turned in early on the second day, and yesterday was pretty quiet. Everyone assumed you were goin' over the charts or designing some special plan fer gettin' us into Port Royal. But this morning there were some questions, seein' as how you missed six consecutive meals and didn't have them brought t' yer cabin. So I figured I best come and check on you."

"Bloody right ye shoulda," Jack grumbled tiredly, running a hand down his face.

As the two fell into silence, it became more and more obvious to the elder that Jack was shaking uncontrollably despite his efforts to hide it. After several long moments of watching the other tire himself by trying to hide a trivial weakness, Gibbs cleared his throat and Jack's head shot up in response.

"Hungry, sir?"

"Aye," Jack whispered faintly, letting his head droop again.

Gibbs gently patted the younger on the knee. "Sit tight Jack, I'll be right back," he said quietly as he rose. Jack listened halfheartedly to the other's retreating footsteps and the subsequent opening and closing of the cabin door.

Closing the cabin door behind him, Gibbs shook his head mildly and sighed.

"Gibbs," Ana called lightly, approaching the quartermaster at an agitated pace.

The one looked up and met Ana's gaze evenly. A question burned in her eyes but the tension in her jaw made it evident that she would not give voice to the query.

"The Cap'n's fine, lass." Gibbs said quietly in answer to the unasked question. Without giving her time to respond, he passed her and descended to the galley.

Ana found herself suddenly lost and confused. She stood uncertainly, staring hollowly at the closed cabin door. A part of her demanded that she enter and ascertain Jack was 'fine' for herself, and yet…she couldn't. She backed up a step and then another and shook her head.

As Gibbs was returning to Jack's cabin, he passed Ana, who was pale and pacing quickly with her head down. The old sailor had only a moment to contemplate this odd behavior before he reached the cabin door and had to face the more pressing matter of his malnourished captain.

A quiet knock sounded on his door and Jack jumped. "Come'n," he muttered, not noticing that Gibbs had already entered with a tray of food balanced on one hand. Jack started again as the tray appeared in his peripheral vision and he weakly dragged his head up. He glanced over the tray of food uninterestedly and made no move to take any of it.

Exhaling silently, Gibbs took a bowl of stew and a spoon from the tray and placed them in Jack's hands. Jack sighed heavily.

"I know lad, but ye need to eat." Gibbs said quietly, nodding toward the stew. Slowly and very reluctantly, Jack began to sip at the stew, still having no real interest in it.

"Jack," the one's eyes darted up from his meal at the sound of his name, "Where'd you git that?" Gibbs finished, indicating the golden medallion that hung around the neck of the younger.

Jack waved the spoon vaguely in the air. "Aneaia." Gibbs quirked an eyebrow in question. The spoon traced a larger path in the air. "Caciques' daughter."

ZzZzZzZzZzZ

A heavy cloak of darkness covered the night-ridden land with the only light coming from the sliver of moon surrounded by a sprinkling of stars. Lazy white wisps of cloud traveled through the night sky and passed over the eerily luminescent moon, casting a shadow upon the land to complete the shroud of darkness.

The gentle, omnipresent lull of the waves rolling in and crashing against the shore was the only sound…the only sound until the distinct crackling of wind-filled sails drifted in, preceding the dark ship that slowly made her way into Kingston Bay.

A large cloud floated nearer to the moon and a moment after the dark ship's anchor touched the water, the port town was bathed in solid blackness.

"When should we expect you back Cap'n?" Jack leveled his dark gaze at his quartermaster and his message was understood. "The code. Aye Cap'n," Gibbs said quietly, casting his gaze down at the deck.

Jack pulled the hood of his heavy cloak up over his head, casting his face in shadow. He turned away from Gibbs and the cloak billowed out around him as he walked to the rail where a rowboat was waiting in the water below.

ZzZzZzZzZzZ

Ana rapped her fist against the heavy wood of Jack's cabin door. Her first knock sounded loud and frighteningly empty, making her hesitant to knock again. When several minutes had passed with no response, she raised her fist again and just before her hand connected with the wood, a voice stopped her mid-motion.

"Lookin' for someone, Anamaria?"

Ana spun around and faced Gibbs with a resigned but somehow grateful expression. "Where's th' Cap'n?"

"He's gone ashore lass."

"What? Alone?"

"Aye." Gibbs caught Ana's arm as she pushed past him, heading for the ship's rail. As she was spun gracelessly into him, Ana cast a heated glare up at him. "Nay lass, he ordered that no one follow him. Th' crew's not allowed shore leave until he returns."

"Well Jack's an idiot." Ana spat, pulling free of Gibbs' grasp and storming to the ship's rail.

Thunder rolled in the distance and Gibbs, feeling uncomfortable with the situation, followed Ana to the rail where she was already arguing with another crewmember about getting a boat lowered.

"I'm sorry miss, but Captain's orders-"

"Screw his orders," Ana snarled, glaring down at the frightened man. "He's clearly not in his right mind. Now _lower a boat_." Ana took in a sharp breath as strong hands caught hers and pinned them up behind her back at an awkward angle. She instantly took the offensive, cursing and kicking wildly but making no progress in getting free.

"Johnson, Stewe, would you kindly escort Miss Anamaria to her cabin?" Gibbs called to two large crewmen. The two quickly crossed the deck and took one arm each, restraining the hissing, kicking and cursing female. "Thank you gentlemen. And please, make sure she stays where she has been confined."

As the two men began dragging Ana away, she dug her feet in and made slim progress in hindering their forward movement. "Gibbs!" she screamed. "You'll regret this!"

Gibbs' previously hard expression softened somewhat as he reminded himself of the cause of her actions. After a moment, he addressed the two thugs struggling to keep their holds on the wildcat. "Kindly lock her in the brig for the night."

Ana's frown darkened and she spat at Gibbs' feet as she was forcibly dragged below.


	11. Formalities

_Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all associated characters belong to their respective owners. I just play and give back. All I can lay claim to are the OC's in this story – and not even them. They own themselves, alright? I guess I come out with nada. Sadly._

**_Author's Note: Goodness, it's been forever, hasn't it! Sorry…_**

**_Dedication: I dedicate this whole story to my grandpa who lived an eventful, healthy 86 years and instilled knowledge and the love of gardening in most everyone he came into contact with. He was joking up until the very end, and that's how I like to remember him._**

Chapter 11 – Formalities

The streets of Port Royal glistened beneath the lamplight as if they were coated in ice. Puddles formed in the low points of the uneven cobblestone pavement and a single set of footsteps was barely distinguishable through the pouring rain.

Jack's right foot landed on an uneven stone and he stumbled, nearly falling face-first into a murky puddle. He righted himself and quickly pushed onward, bowing his head against the driving rain.

Before long, a second set of footsteps reached Jack's ears, nearly silenced by the rain. Jack struggled to keep his pace even and ducked into an alley at the first chance he got. Even as his hand tightened on the hilt of his cutlass, the second person passed him without incident, head bowed into the rain.

Jack let out the breath he had been holding in and allowed himself to relax. _So far, so good,_ he thought to himself with a small grin. He stood in the shadows of the alley for several moments, composing himself and reiterating his agenda. Before leaving the safety of the alley, he took a cursory glance up and down the street; as he had hoped, he was the only one. Wrapping the oiled cloak tighter around his lean frame, he pushed out into the rain once more.

ZzZzZzZzZzZ

Ana pushed through the curtain of rain and sloshed along the street, glancing over her shoulder frequently. As she neared the heart of the town, she became more relaxed, feeling that she had escaped the _Pearl's_ crew without incident. Once she had been abandoned in her cabin, getting out unnoticed had been an interesting task. After opening the cabin window and glancing upwards several times over, she had slipped through the slim opening and dove into the dark waters below. With the noise of the rain pattering on the deck, none of the watch had noticed the splash.

Sighing in relief, Ana ceased walking like a jumpy cat and settled into her normal gait, scanning the empty streets for any sign of her captain. She was so caught up in her search that the dark figures several yards behind went unnoticed.

ZzZzZzZzZzZ

Meanwhile, atop the hill in the governor's mansion, Elizabeth Swann-Turner stifled a yawn. She stood in the center of the great room floor, surrounded by ladies in fine gowns and men in proper dress. Throughout the room, jewels sparkled on the necks and ears of their wearers.

"I tell you, Lizzy, the duchess is really out there with this one," Danielle, Elizabeth's sister, continued, leaning in conspiratorially. Elizabeth feigned interest and noted that her husband was doing the same with her brother-in-law's news.

"Oh, Elizabeth!"

Elizabeth started at her sister's sudden exclamation and smiled hesitantly. "My apologies, could you repeat that?"

"Where did you get those rubies? Elizabeth, they are simply stunning!" Danielle gushed, eyeing the blood red drops set in gold.

Elizabeth's hand flew to her necklace. "They were a gift," she supplied vaguely.

"From _who?_ The Commodore? He is a fine man if I don't say so myself."

"No, not the Commodore. From a…friend. Yes, the Commodore is a fine man," Elizabeth smiled as she caught Will's curious stare, "but you forget that we are both married, Danielle."

"I forget nothing!" Danielle replied indignantly. "Oh, but to think we've only been here such a short while and will be called away so soon! Two days," she sighed. "But we've has such a wonderful time," she added, drawing her husband over by the arm, "haven't we, darling?"

"Yes, yes of course," Derek, Danielle's husband, replied. "Thank you both for your wonderful hospitality."

Will and Elizabeth smiled. Derek with his pale hair and his elegant yet sensible clothing, looked up from his wife's face and glanced about the room. "If you will excuse me,"

"Of course dear," Danielle purred. Derek kissed Elizabeth's hand lightly before disappearing into the crowd. Will whispered something into Elizabeth's ear and she nodded. Will bowed to Danielle and disappeared into the crowd as well.

"Mother," the young blonde-haired girl at Danielle's side whispered, tugging impatiently on her skirts. "Mother!"

Danielle forced a smile and rolled her eyes toward the child. "Please excuse me for a moment, Elizabeth,"

"Of course, Dani," Elizabeth replied with a smile down at her six-year-old niece.

Danielle turned so she was looking down at her young daughter and carefully pried her skirts from the child's grasp. After smoothing her skirts, she leaned forward as much as her tight corset would allow and brushed stray strands of golden-brown hair behind Madeline's ears before straightening again and addressing her daughter. "Now Madeline, whatever is the matter this time?"

"It's so _boring_ in here mother. I want to have _fun_. I want to play."

Danielle's properly un-tanned face seemed to go a shade paler at this poorly-mannered outburst from her daughter. "_Madeline!_ How dare you say such a horrid thing about Aunt Elizabeth's party? You need to apologize this instant."

"But mother, I want to go outside—"

"_Thank_ your aunt for her many courtesies and apologize and then you _may_ go outside." Danielle said evenly, a blush of fury coloring her chest and neck.

Madeline rolled her eyes. Both women caught the gesture, which amused one and horrified the other.

"_Madeline!_" Danielle hissed. "That was most inappropriate."

"For pity's sake Dani," Elizabeth managed with a barely suppressed laugh, sinking to kneel beside Madeline. "She's too young to be bothered with manners."

"Perhaps in your opinion, Elizabeth, but I will continue to bother her with them until she learns. And then some. Now then Madeline, you were about to say..?"

Madeline sighed, dipped into a perfect curtsy and bowed her head to her aunt. "I thank you for your many courtesies Aunt Elizabeth and I do apologize most sincerely for my rude behavior."

"Apology accepted and you're very welcome Madeline," Elizabeth answered sweetly with a smile at the younger girl. "Now go on and get some fresh air."

When Madeline shot up from her curtsy, Elizabeth ruffled her golden-brown hair fondly before the child ran out to the back gardens. Elizabeth rose and within the moment her sister was jumping back into their mindless, one-sided conversation. With an inner sigh Elizabeth forced herself to at least act like she was listening and secretly envied her young niece her freedom.


	12. Chapter 12

_Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all associated characters belong to their respective owners. I just play and give back. All I can lay claim to are the OC's in this story – and not even them. They own themselves, alright? I guess I come out with nada. Sadly._

**_Author's Note: Well…er…this is better timing…right? heh…_**

**_Dedication: I dedicate this whole story to my grandpa who lived an eventful, healthy 86 years and instilled knowledge and the love of gardening in most everyone he came into contact with. He was joking up until the very end, and that's how I like to remember him._**

Chapter 12

Madeline hastily made her way through the crowded ballroom, intent on reaching the door leading into the gardens and the freedom it offered. She wove between the heavy skirts of the ladies' fine dresses and avoided the servants toting trays of refreshments.

Finally she reached her destination and sighed gratefully. She opened the door and skipped out into the rainy night, quietly giggling to herself. Madeline made her way along the garden trails, growing less certain of herself the further she got from the comforting warm glow of the mansion's great room.

Before long, her fear pressed her to return to the door and the comfort of the light issuing from the windows around it. Any sadness for her loss of freedom was overrun by her desire to escape the dark. She tugged on the door's handle, but it did not give. Furrowing her brows, she placed both hands on the knob and yanked as hard as she could. Locked. The door was locked from the inside.

With a fresh wave of fear spurring her on, Madeline abandoned the door and followed the garden trail nearest to the mansion's walls, hoping to find another entrance somewhere along their length.

Madeline squeaked as firm hands grasped her from behind.

ZzZzZzZzZzZ

Tall, fine-boned and dark-haired Joseph Tifnle walked down the darkened cobblestone streets of Port Royal. Water seeped into his shoes and each step resulted in a 'squalsh' sound. The glow of lights from within the governor's mansion, his destination, sent him to wringing his hands before him. His paced slowed as he fretted, the rain that had been driving him on forgotten.

Having never been one for social gatherings outside his class, and rarely those within his class, Joseph was experiencing second thoughts. He patted his breast pocket, firmly reminding himself that he had received a personal invitation from the governor himself, something that should not be ignored or taken lightly.

Exhaling, he told himself that all that was really required of him was to show his face, chat for fifteen minutes at most, and then slip out unnoticed. At least then he could honestly say he had attended. With his resolve somewhat strengthened, he pressed onward and attempted to ignore the clench of panic in his chest.

Finally the tension overwhelmed him and he stopped, gulping in the cool air and trying to steady his quaking limbs. He stood for several minutes, nearly hyperventilating on the governor's doorstep and unable to force himself onward. A chilly wind pierced his oiled cloak and he shivered at the unpleasant sensation.

"I can't do this," he resolved. Blowing on his hands and rubbing them together, he turned away from the door and started back the way he had come. Before he had left the walkway, a sound brought him up short and raised the hair on the back of his neck. _What was that?_ he asked himself, scanning the darkness around him with wide eyes.

He heard it again, quieter this time: a restricted squeal from behind the hedge that ran the length of the mansion and went back to frame the gardens. Joseph's curiosity won out and he slowly made his way over to the gate leading into the hedged walkway along the wall.

Ahead of him there was a rustle of wet fabric and Joseph froze. Now jut inside the gate, he pressed himself to the mansion wall and waited. For what, he was unsure.

With jerky motions, two figures, one much larger than the other, made their way in his direction. The large figure was yanking the smaller along with an arm wrapped firmly around the other's neck, herding it into the darkness. The choked squeals of distress were becoming more urgent.

Joseph began edging down the wall, nearer to the two who had stopped and were struggling with one another. A roll of thunder that seemed to shake the ground on which he stood stopped him for a moment. Following the thunder, he heard a quieter but much more frightening sound: choking.

Lightning flashed several times in quick succession and each strike was accompanied belatedly by the crack of thunder. In the brief spans of illumination, Joseph saw enough to make his blood run cold. Mere yards from where he was standing, a young girl in court finery was being strangled by a desultory-looking man in outlandish sailor's clothing. The man was holding a red cloth tight around the neck of the girl, who was fading fast.

As the lightning passed, darkness blanketed the narrow aisle once more and Joseph, in a rare moment of rage and courage, pushed away from the wall and ran headlong at the struggling pair. The man heard Joseph coming and met him with a strong resistance. Keeping the cloth tight around the girl's neck with one hand, he thrust a fist into Joseph's face and he fell.

Darkness clouded Joseph's vision as he tried to pull himself off the ground. The other's sneering face was the last thing Joseph saw before slipping into oblivion.

ZzZzZzZzZzZ

Jack trudged away from the governor's mansion as casually as he could. The rain was still falling in heavy sheets and he felt the sting of it even through his cloak. As soon as he was back on the street, he broke into a jog and headed for a path he vaguely remembered.

His journey brought him to the home of Mr. and Mrs. William Turner. He gave the quaint building a cursory glance from the street before rounding it to find a way in. His search concluded in the discovery of an open window at the rear of the dwelling, which he passed through.

Once inside, Jack paused and scanned the darkness. After a few moments, the pirate paced down the hall, into the kitchen and looked around. Moonlight trickled through the single window, casting a pale glow across the table and onto the floor, ending just inches from where Jack stood. He shuddered involuntarily and shook his head, sending droplets of water flying.

Jack reached into his vest and withdrew a small, canvas-wrapped package and a hastily-folded letter. He knelt, pushed the rug aside and began rapping quietly on the panels of the floor. When the sound of his knock came back hollowly, Jack carefully pried the board off and placed the package and letter in the dusty compartment. That done, he replaced the board and the rug and left the way he had come.

As he rounded the house and headed back to the street, Jack exhaled deeply, his breath collecting in a transparent white cloud before him. He cast a glance back at the dark house as he started back down the street. When he looked back around, a faint black outline, seen through the curtain of rain, brought him up short. Trying to make the movement look casual, he drew a dagger from his wrist guard and palmed it, keeping the blade turned away from the moonlight. He kneeled, ignoring the cold water that soaked through his pant leg and chilled his knee.

"Honestly Jack, you don't really think that small blade will do you any good, do you?"

Jack tensed and rose slowly after drawing another blade from the sheathe in his boot. Through the rain, three figures materialized and their features were partially revealed by the cold moonlight. Though he didn't recognize two of them, the third he did.

"Anamaria!" His call drew no response from her and Jack bristled, glaring heatedly at the larger of the men, who was holding her limp form. "Let her go." He spoke slowly with an uncharacteristic sharpness to his voice, though he did not raise it.

The leaner of the two men nodded and motioned nonchalantly for the other to comply. The larger man unceremoniously dropped Ana's body and she struck the wet cobblestones like a brick.

"Anamaria," Jack called gently. She didn't stir. Jack's burning gaze returned to the two men and his features hardened. "What have you done to her?"


End file.
